


Lights in the Dark

by SoullessSpartan



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Chapter 3 is where the plot starts to kick off... if you don't want any background that is, Chapter 7 is the first reason why a "Mature" rating is not out of the question, Chekhov's Gun, Definitely not a quick read, Don't Have to Know Canon, Gen, Infrequent and Irregular Content Updates, Multiple Concurrent Story Arcs, Okay... more like Chekhov's whole freakin' armory really..., Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Personally I'd suggest rereading chapters when a new one comes out, Read on if you really want to know why that is..., Readers' Discretion is Strongly Advised, Slow Plot Buildup, Tags Are Hard, Wouldn't hurt to know the canon though, more characters to appear
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-20
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-05-07 16:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 11
Words: 69,137
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14675049
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SoullessSpartan/pseuds/SoullessSpartan
Summary: Once, there was a legend about a mountain; it was said that those who climb it would never return. Many had looked upon the mountain, all devising to reach its summit. But where a myth such as that exists, there is a certain aspect of a truth behind it. And when the truth is broken by the myth, then what ultimately becomes truth, and thus reality?Suppose for a moment there was not a “tomorrow” today and there will not be a “tomorrow” tomorrow; what becomes “today”? When time repeats itself ad nauseum, what breaks first: time itself or that which observes time?Updates and Chapter Status in notes





	1. The Fall

**Author's Note:**

> **_Chapter Status:_**  
>  **Published** : 1-11  
>  **Ready** : N/A  
>  **Polishing** : N/A  
>  **Drafting** : 12 _(full chapter)_ , 13 _(interlude)_  
>  **Concept Ready** : 14-16  
>  **Upcoming** : ...a lot... probably. _Who knows, really?_
> 
> [From Chapter 11 notes] UPDATE (Mar/20/2019 11:15AM UTC-6): Well, this has been an unfruitful four weeks. The weather hasn't helped much. Nor has sleep deprivation. That ain't from writing this; that's just from life. Been contemplating whether I should just forgo a beta review and publish ASAP. Especially given some... "issues" there's been lately. Don't ask. Seriously, don't.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  __  
>  **[Insert Florid and Pretentious Author's Preface Here]**  
>   
> 
>  
> 
>  
> 
> I'm just kidding.
> 
> So, you've found yourself here, at the beginning of some random person's first-ever fan work. (Cue the noisemakers.) How you've found yourself here - be it via sifting through the Archive, a friend's referral about this (presumably well-received) work, or even a referral from the author himself - is not what you should concern yourself with now. What I do suggest is taking a moment to bear with me and figure out how you should approach this work. Or you can just dive on in. This preface is probably not going to wrap up quickly...
> 
> * * *
> 
> If you _HAVE_ played the game before _OR_ are at least generally aware of the story of the game (i.e. word-of-mouth, YouTube, memes, etc.), then keep reading. 
> 
> If you are _NOT_ familiar with Undertale, I would _strongly_ suggest that you do one of two things:  
>  \- Buy and play it (it's only US$10 and it's fairly simple to pick up the control scheme)  
> OR  
> \- Watch a playthrough of the game on YouTube (I would recommend a "blind" playthrough, i.e. the player doesn't know what's going to happen)
> 
> Failing that, you can still dive in all the same, but I fear that you will not get the reaction that I had intended with specific sections. Even so, if you do decide to play/watch Undertale at a later date, this is likely going to spoil _that_ experience for you. 
> 
> * * *
> 
> Okay, now that I've gotten that out of the way, I'd like to say a "few" words right now for all of you (if you're still reading the preface, that is.)
> 
> As stated in the tags for this work, there _**WILL**_ be more characters within the story. Whether or not their depiction remains faithful and true to the original canon (or the generally accepted "fanon")... well, I'm not playing all my cards right now. When they are introduced to the story, I will add their tags accordingly.
> 
> There will ( _hopefully_ ) be further updates. At the time of publishing (5/20/2018), I have several more chapter drafts completed that I'm proofreading and polishing with friends before I publish them. After that, it's anyone's guess when (or _if_ ) I'll have more content ready. That's what college, multiple jobs, and the requirements of real life can do to your hobbies, unfortunately.
> 
> In general, there will _**NOT**_ be any content warnings tagged. For those of you with sensitivities towards any issue, I apologize in advance; were I to include tags for that content, I fear it would most assuredly spoil the work. This is also why I do not have more characters currently tagged. If I do include any content warnings, they will exist only by request and they will be listed within the preceding author's notes for the chapter(s) in question.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Okay, that's enough from me. If you haven't already, start reading the story already.

The verdant fields of grass and wheat surrounding the mountain were still moist from the afternoon’s rain showers as the human child skipped through them with revelry and glee. It was enjoyable for her to come out here, as it provided a respite from the inconveniences of living indoors. To the child, nature was a wondrous entity, always full of excitement and serenity. It was a welcome change to the hum-drum of the indoors, and she really did not want to spend any longer indoors than what was necessary; she always did foster a desire for some consistency and normalcy in her life, what with how chaotic her childhood always seemed to be.

Indeed, she had a curious nickname among the other children, one that she took in stride and used as a replacement for her name: Frisk. Really, it suited her quite well, for she was always exploring wherever she went and she was always bubbling with unfocused excitement and unbridled liveliness. Yet, she was never quite as enthused interacting with people, finding a great many of them too apathetic about the kind of things that she enjoyed. Quite often, her peers never had the same degree of wanderlust that she exhibited, and it was always a struggle trying to relate her adventures and imaginations to them.

Frisk was especially fascinated with the sky. In the daylight, it was always the same though: sapphire skies, a golden sun, wispy cirrus clouds and an occasional cumulonimbus. But at night, there were the stars and oftentimes the ever-changing moon that filled the navy blue expanse between twilights. You could gaze into the unknown and it would not be able to hide in the glare of sunlight. It was far more serene as well, as the farmers were typically not in their fields, nor were any businessmen taking their daily commutes to work in the especially dull city. Had it been wintertime, Frisk would have stayed inside for fear of a sudden blizzard rolling down from the side of the mountain. But it was the middle of the summer and the nights were quite pleasant with a breeze flowing steadily to the nearby lake and the downdraft coming from the mountain.

The mountain itself was quite a remarkable sight. Officially known as Mount Ebott, it was a great mountain of fertile earth and dense stone, covered with plenty of grass, shrubbery and the occasional clump of trees. The slopes were generally steep but hardly treacherous to climb, with gaping crevices lying here and there on the side of the mountain. Curiously, it was not a part of any mountain range; the nearest peak took the better half of a day’s travel by car and that peak was part of a large stretch of mountains. Indeed, the mysterious “Lonely Mountain” – as the locals called it – was steeped in old legends and myths from those who had lived here. Some theorized that it was originally volcanic and that was why the surrounding prairie was so fertile. Others believed it to house a secret military installation known only to a select few. Yet nobody ever attempted or even discussed the thought of finding out what was underneath the mountain, for it was another local legend with a grain of truth to it that kept many people away from the mountain.

Long ago, a child climbed to the summit of the mountain, never to be seen again after a sudden thunderstorm crashed into it. Search parties constantly scoured for the child, but the search was called off after several days. Over the following decades, several more children climbed the mountain, some allegedly out of a desire to disappear like the first child had done, some desiring to search for the missing children themselves, and still others merely seeking thrills and adventure. Tragically and inexplicably, every single one of them disappeared as well, with no remains found by the search parties. And so the Legend of the Lonely Mountain came to be; “those who climb the mountain never return”.

Yet Frisk was not deterred by the legend; if anything, she didn’t care about the thought of disappearing from the world’s notice. She thought the legend to be merely nothing more than a story to scare children away from the mountain, albeit a rather strange story. If the search parties could manage to come back from climbing the mountain, what prevented her from simply exploring the mountain and returning as well? And yet it was still rather frightening for her, for those children had, in fact, disappeared. But where did they go; were they hiding somewhere? Or perhaps there was another reason why the children all disappeared; indeed, she had heard many a tale of how it was a cover-up because of some ancient alien conspiracy, but she only ever heard that from people that had had too many drinks at some of the local diners. Frisk was always a curious one, and given that the forecast had called for a bright and relatively cloudless night tonight, she figured that tonight might be a good time to try and test the mountain myth herself.

Carrying only a light rucksack over her shoulder, a canteen on her belt, a headlamp and a sturdy walking stick, Frisk began on her journey. Her striped fleece sweater and denim jeans were easily warm enough for the night, but she took along a light rain jacket in case the sky decided to release its cargo. The first steps were easy enough; she had frequently toyed around at the base of the mountain, much to the chagrin of her family and neighbors. The mountain was hardly steep at the onset, and as she kept climbing, the sheer excitement of defying the fables kept her momentum from faltering. Had it not been for the still damp grass beneath her boots and the steady headwinds from the mountain bearing down on her, she would have been running up the gentle mountain slope with great haste.

Whatever the case, it was still a good workout. Frisk was always active, and her love of adventuring left her with no small skill in climbing over shorter ledges and watching her footing. Twilight soon began to fall, and so Frisk paused for a moment to set up her headlamp before it became too dark to do so. It wasn’t an especially cloudy or dark night yet –the moon was already rising and brilliantly shining on the horizon – but it didn’t hurt to be prepared for exploring caves or if something were to happen. A simple stumble might lead to a gashed leg or a broken arm, and her efforts would be hampered if she wanted to continue in that kind of state.

Many minutes passed by as Frisk continued to scale the heights. Her legs ached slightly, but it paled in comparison to the thrill of defying old fairy tales. She was expecting someone to start calling out after her, but no shouting came up the mountainside after her. She turned to look and see where she was and was quite surprised to find that she was already quite a far distance up the mountain. The summit of Mount Ebott was far above the surrounding plains, but climbing the mountain was hardly a daunting task to undertake compared to most other mountains. Her only surprise was that nobody had noticed her silhouette outlined on the slope yet. But her neighbors would eventually notice her absence; she usually went indoors at sundown and she typically was not one to break from her own norms, even if she was a more rambunctious child than most.

Frisk returned her gaze to the slope above her and trekked onward. The wind was starting to pick up as she gained more altitude on the mountain, so she slowed her ascent accordingly. She didn’t consider herself the most intelligent child, but she had enough sense to be more careful in adventures such as this. Her breathing became heavier and her legs ached as she neared the summit. Strangely, she noticed that the moonlight seemed to dim, and turning to discover the cause, she found that a particularly large cloud was moving between the moon and the mountain. No matter; she already set up her headlamp, and so she reached up to the slider bar and with hardly a whisper, the electric light began to gleam with a blinding wave of white light. Frisk grimaced, for her night vision would suffer after she turned off her light, but its necessity was all too apparent as the moonlight fully faded away into the large cloud that grew more and more ominous.

Suddenly, she heard what sounded like a voice on the mountain with her. “What are you doing here?” She spun around, wondering where the source of the voice was and dreading the thought of being taken back down the mountain and reported to her family. She spoke up quickly but fearlessly, the shock of another person on the mountain with her quickly subsiding: “Who’s there? Where are you?” “I’m right here, miss.” And with that, a figure emerged from some brush further up the mountain. He stopped as soon as he was fully visible to Frisk, with his hands and head buried in his crimson hoodie. What wasn’t obscured of his head revealed a pleasant face, with dark green eyes and a calm, subdued smile. It was apparent that his eyesight had not yet adjusted to the bright LED shining into his face, as he squinted to see whom he had encountered.

Frisk did not recall seeing the man before. “So, who are you? Why are you here?” The man smirked and slowly sat down on the grass, removing his hood with a paled hand and revealing a headful of tousled brown hair. “Probably for a similar reason as to why you’re here.” Well, the man wasn’t telling her to return, but that didn’t mean Frisk was going to let her guard down; she really didn’t want to be taken back to her family when she was so close to the peak. “You didn’t say who you are though.” The man chuckled a bit. “Persistent one, aren’tcha? I doubt you’ll know who I am, seeing as how I only moved to the area about a week ago or so. The name’s John; John Doe.”

Now it was Frisk’s turn to smirk; she’d heard that name before by talking with a police officer once; the white tape outline of a person sprawled on the ground was never quite so innocent after that. “Really? _John Doe_? You don’t know who you are? ” He bared his teeth into an amused smirk. “You watch a lot of crime dramas, don’t you? Fine, ya got me. It’s Noah.” And with that, he started laughing a little bit, apparently finding some humor in the whole situation. Indeed, Frisk found the whole thing rather interesting; he was quite relaxed and easy-going for an adult, yet not even the adults dared to venture where he was. It seemed that he was not aware of the legend, or he simply didn’t care.

After a few brief moments of his laughter, his expression changed back to his quiet smile. “So, what brings you to the mountaintop, miss? It’s a bit late to be hiking a mountain by yourself, isn’t it?” Frisk mulled over her answer for a brief moment. “Nope. Are you a policeman or just another one of the people that say this mountain has a ghost? I don’t want to go back home right now.” He grinned for a bit. “I see your parents raised you with enough sense to not run your mouth to complete strangers. But I’ll just assume that they feel you’re capable enough to watch yourself anyways. Now, ya mind if I take a few guesses as to why you’re here?” Frisk winced at his words; either he knew her family and he was sent here to take her back or he was just trying to make her go back of her own accord. Either way, she really needed to watch how she said things if she wanted to keep going. “Go ahead.” Noah sat on his heels and brought his hand to his chin, clasping it in pensiveness. His eyes focused on her as if there was some defect in her attire that only he could see. If he was trying to mimic a statue, he was doing a decent job, in spite of his clothing giving him the appearance of some vagabond scavenger.

“So, I see a canteen and a backpack; given the size though, you probably weren’t planning on staying out for very long. That or you weren’t thinking far enough ahead. I take it you were just going to be out here for a bit then head back home?” Frisk didn’t flinch, but Noah grinned anyways. “Well, I figured that part out. ‘ _Blood from a stone_ ’…but how about I tell you why I’m out here myself? I mean, you obviously don’t trust me or my intentions; you said as much yourself.  I may as well tell you since I’m asking you what you’re doing.” Frisk shifted on her feet ever so slightly and imperceptibly; he was spot-on in saying that she didn’t trust him very much. “Alright, why?” “Why what?” “Why are you out here? On the mountain that nobody returns from.” “Well …” He sighed deeply in what seemed a reflective pause. His answer slowly leaked out after a few seconds of crickets chirruping elsewhere on the mountain. “…I guess I find sunsets and stargazing rather enjoyable. Figured that the mountaintop would give me a good view of the sunset. That is until that cloud bank showed up anyways.” He gestured to the same cloudbank that was covering the moon, although silver light began to peek out from beneath the billows.

Frisk continued to watch Noah out of the corner of her eye, not fully lowering her guard. Strangely, she felt colder than usual, as if his presence were the cause itself. But it was easy enough to disprove Noah as the origin of the feeling as an abnormally strong gust of wind began to drive up the mountainside. Frisk was perplexed. _The wind should be blowing_ down _the mountain, shouldn’t it?_ Noah noticed the change in weather as well, as the cloud that had been covering the moon began to move closer and darken, covering the faint moonlight once more. Noah’s expression morphed as his smile faded into a frown and his face locked into an expression of concern. “ Huh… that cloud bank’s bigger than I thought; I could have sworn that the fore–”, but before he could finish, a forked lightning bolt finished his remark for him as the sky burst into blue-white fire and screamed like a roaring freight train. Frisk quickly reached around for her rucksack and pulled out her jacket, quickly donning it as raindrops began to splash around her. Noah quickly put his hood back up and pulled out a small handheld flashlight that he had had strapped to his thigh.

Thunderstorms were a rarity in the area, but getting caught in one was dangerous enough without being on the mountain. If the lightning didn’t outright kill you, the wind and rain would likely do the job instead by knocking you off your feet and down the mountain where you’d probably land on some sharp rocks, dying either a slow death or a quick one depending on how you landed. “Where do we go?” Frisk figured she’d try trusting him for once. “There’s a cave nearby that we can take cover in; let’s go!” and with that, Noah hurriedly moved up the mountain, pausing only briefly to grab a backpack that he had placed within the brush that he had emerged from earlier. Frisk was bewildered by Noah’s actions, but there were some caverns in the mountain that were visible from the fields; it wasn’t out of the question to trust his judgment, so she climbed after him, disregarding caution and moving with haste to get out of the sudden weather.

Noah was still lumbering along, but Frisk was easily catching up; it probably helped that she didn’t have to deal with a number of tree branches getting in her way as he was. She paced alongside him, knowing that she would stand a better chance of survival with someone – really, anyone – by her side than alone. Stealing a glance at his expression, she noted that he looked rather worried. Truth be told, she wasn’t feeling quite as upbeat as she was minutes before; the sudden ferocity of the storm raging above certainly didn’t help matters much. It was the thought of nearby shelter that proved enough to keep her moving past the brush and thickets. “How close are we?” A crack of lightning split the skies again, as the top part of a nearby tree took a direct hit and exploded into smoldering wooden shards and a charred husk of a branch. Noah didn’t answer immediately; his arm was raised to shove a particularly hefty branch out of his path.

“Ah! Here we are!” Noah pointed towards a small opening in the mountain that gaped with a darkened maw in the flicker of electricity, and suddenly raced towards it. Frisk managed to keep up briefly but Noah’s sudden burst of vigor propelled him ahead. He didn’t dive inside as soon as he reached the cave, but he did stop to make sure that Frisk was at least behind him. Frisk began to feel a burning sensation as she sprinted into the cave, her legs aching with a raw soreness as she made the last few steps. She turned around after stopping, noting that Noah had sunk down to one knee, visibly exhausted by the stress of the wind and rain thrashing against him as he ran. “So… if you don’t mind me asking… what’s your name then?”

Frisk paused briefly as Noah extended a handshake to her, still unsure of his intent. “Frisk.” Noah stared for a brief moment, but what puzzled Frisk was his expression: he was smiling. It wasn’t much changed from his expression before the storm, still bearing patience in spite of her distrust. She was expecting a more annoyed visage, especially if this was someone sent to retrieve her for her family. “Well, ‘Frisk’, I assume you would prefer that name to whatever your real name is?” Frisk hesitated, if briefly; he was sharper than what he let on with his appearance and demeanor. And with that, she nodded in affirmation, quietly drew a breath and returned his handshake; despite the relative size of his hands, his grip was warm and fairly gentle, not paralyzing as she was expecting.

“Fair enough. After all, I did say my name was _John Doe_ …” His statement trailed off into a short chuckle. “Although, not even a last name?” Frisk shook her head. “Eh, whatever. Now, let’s see how wet my gear is.” Noah slid his backpack off of his shoulder deftly, setting it next to the cave wall with a heavy thump. He opened a flap on the top and pulled out a small bulky lantern with a hand crank. Soon, the warm glow of an old incandescent light filled the cave as Noah steadily ratcheted the battery to full strength. After a good minute or two, he sat back and reclined on the cave wall, sighing contentedly. “That should hopefully keep for a couple of hours. Storm should blow over by then.” Frisk said nothing, continuing to stare out into the storm and calmly wondering if her family was looking for her.

“So, Frisk, if you’re willing to tell me, why were you climbing? Every person I’ve talked to about this mountain said that it’s dangerous to climb it or it’s cursed or what have you… although it really doesn’t seem like it to me…” His voice trailed off on the last phrase. Frisk grinned slightly and turned around to face him, remembering the many times she’d been told that the mountain was dangerous to climb; the mere fact that the both of them were already a fair distance up the mountain was spit in their eyes and she rather enjoyed it. Noah had his knee drawn up as an armrest and was staring at her with a look of… curiosity? Frisk pondered her answer for a moment more. “Well, I wanted to climb it. Everyone kept telling me that I shouldn’t because I would disappear if I did.”

Noah smirked in a way that suggested amusement… or perhaps confusion. “Disappear? Oh, don’t tell me you believe those stories.” “Everyone who’s been here long enough knows the legend by heart: ‘Those who climb the mountain never return.’ They say that many years ago, some kid climbed the mountain and disappeared. Then some other kids climbed it years later and they disappeared too. They didn’t find any bodies either; they just… vanished. And the kids really did disappear too. My grandpa knew one of them.”

Noah’s expression changed to that of a more somber tone, his smile fading into a serious grimace. “That’s a rather… sad story… and yet there’s a bit of mystery to it. Kids disappearing out of the blue, no bodies recovered. That just doesn’t happen nowadays. Maybe 100 years ago, but now?” He chuckled briefly. “So, did you just want to be the exception to the legend? Or would you rather that I, uh… didn’t ask for your reasons?” His voice seemed to change as well, with more thought put into his words and more hesitancy in speaking; either he found it uncomfortable to be asking these questions or he was simply perturbed by the story or…

 _He didn’t already figure it out, did he?_ Frisk paused at the thought, not wanting to let her emotions unravel in front of a stranger. “ Some of the older people said that there were search parties looking for the kids, but the searchers came back.” Noah’s composure didn’t change much for that answer; he looked outside with the same grim look. “That doesn’t explain what happened to the kids though. Did any of them really disappear? What really happened that they don’t want anyone here? Does anyone really know…” His voice trailed off suddenly, as he began to give a particular thought much deeper consideration, staring at some random point in the cave floor. Frisk couldn’t really answer that particular question, not without revealing her own intent of course. She paused in thought herself, unable to give an answer to her liking. “I guess I just wanted to find out myself… learn what really happened… you know?”

Noah held his downward gaze for another few seconds, likely processing everything that he had learned from their relatively brief discussion. He looked back to the storm outside. “A rhetorical question, kid. But then again… I guess it really isn’t, is it?” In a not-so-subtle reminder of their situation, a great roll of thunder erupted outside as a lightning bolt hit the mountainside. The roar made Frisk jump slightly; she was still nervous about the sudden onset and the ferocity with which the storm struck. Noah didn’t seem to flinch, although Frisk could tell simply by the rapid fidgeting of his fingers that his emotions were running high. But from what? The storm? She set a hand on his shoulder, concern visible on her face.

Noah slowly nodded his head in response. “I’m fine. I can’t say though that I’m a big fan of sitting around in a cave with nothing to do than wait for a storm to pass.” “How specific.” Came Frisk’s laconic response, though his answer did cause her to ponder for a moment. _I don’t know about us having_ nothing _to do… I can’t see the back of the cave…_ “ Well, we could explore the cave, couldn’t we? We’ve got plenty of light, right?” Noah smiled faintly. “You know… I guess we could, couldn’t we? Let’s just hope we don’t run into any animals. Only one way to find out what’s back there.” And with that, he deftly got to his feet and picked up his backpack. Leaving his lantern behind as a marker, he slowly ambled towards the back of the cave, taking in the sights as he went. Frisk followed behind, strangely realizing that she felt less nervous around him than earlier in the night.

“Wait. What’s this?” Noah gestured to what, at first glance, seemed to be a cluster of weathered rock with some heavy discoloration, like that of rust stains on metal. But Frisk looked closer and she noted that it wasn’t weathered, at least not heavily; it was hand-etched and stained. They were looking at a painting or a carving of some sort. Frisk thought she could see some lettering, but she couldn’t tell. She turned to Noah, about to ask a question but Noah seemed to be… _What’s he reading?_ “ Did someone write this?” Noah held his gaze on the anomalous text, obviously understanding more than she was. “It’s written in a Romanic language of some kind.”

Frisk giggled a bit. “A love language?” “Not ‘ro-man-tic’, ‘ro-man-ic’. A group of languages: Spanish, French, Italian, Portuguese and a few others. They’re all based off of common Latin, which is what the ancient Romans spoke. At least, what the lower classes spoke. This seems more… formal. More commanding. Like a political writing or an emperor’s warning.” Frisk continued to chuckle at the thought of a language of love, but she started to understand the gravity of his words. “So, what does it say then? Can you read it?” Noah turned around and shrugged, with a puzzled expression on his face. “Barely. I tried learning a little bit of Latin when I was about your age. But that was long ago… even still, the fact that I can still recognize it somewhat, I find that impressive. I mean, I’ve not dealt with it in _years_. Not to mention it’s a dying language to begin with; the Roman Empire’s been dead for over a thousand years. Well… ‘defunct’ might be a better word, I guess. ”

Frisk paused in thought for a moment. A language that old meant that either the cave was ancient… or someone loved history enough that they bothered to learn the language. “How old is it?” “The writing?” She nodded and received a shrug in kind. “I’m not a geologist. It could have been carved into the stone yesterday, it could have been done at the beginning of time. All I know is that it’s there.” Frisk kept wondering. “So, what can you read?” Noah pointed to a particular patch of scarred rock. “These two phrases here. This isn’t true Latin, so much as it is a derivative of it, but I think I recognize them: ‘ _periculum_ ’ and ‘ _ab hoc loco_ ’. Without any context, I can’t tell what it’s truly saying, but the first phrase usually translates to ‘danger’ or ‘risk’. The second literally translates into ‘from this place’ or ‘from this location’. If you put them together, it could mean that there is something here that we should avoid because it’s dangerous. Or maybe they’re not a part of the same sentence. Heck, could be that it’s just someone really going the extra length to keep people away. I mean, what with that legend; that carving could really be anything.”

Frisk was still curious; if someone was trying to warn away others, why would they use a language that few living in the area would know? She felt as if there was something else that they were missing... _but what is it that we’re not seeing?_ Eerily, she felt something akin to fear, and yet… _are we not supposed to be here? But we would have had more in our way if that were true… wouldn’t we?_ Noah was still staring at the wall, trying to decipher the words buried in the stone. He stared at them for a few more moments until he turned back to Frisk. “ I don’t think we’re going to learn anything else here. Best to either keep going or go back. Personally, I’d like to keep going, but… your call.” Frisk pondered the choice for a second, as another rumble of thunder reminded her that they were likely still stuck in the cave for the time being. The storm had still been raging in the background, but it had left her focus for that brief time after seeing the cave writing. “Let’s keep going.” And with that, they resumed their exploration.

It seemed as if time trickled by slowly as they meticulously explored the full scope of the cave, canvassing every square inch of the surface looking for clues. The storm still raged overhead, as if nature itself were trying to keep them inside the cave. Surprisingly or perhaps not, there were more of those carvings, although none were in any language that Noah could read or recognize. Neither of them spoke much; they were both too focused on the mysterious cave writings and their origins. The lack of open sky and the abundance of nothing other than the labyrinth of the cave was starting to get to Frisk; she was starting to lose track of time.

Frisk tugged on Noah’s wrist to glance at his watch; it was a well-used and heavily weathered digital variant that simply told the time and date and nothing more. “It’s been about twenty minutes or so. Don’t tell me that you’re getting disoriented even with our trails marked.” He gestured to where they had come from, as strips of white tape marked the paths they had already taken and the path back to the entrance. It was convenient that Noah had that in his backpack; he had mentioned earlier that it was better to pack heavy and have what you don’t need than pack light. It took a moment of disorientation for Frisk to realize that there was a bit of truth to his words.

Noah suddenly paused for a moment, staring at his watch. “What the?” He rapped it gently a few times with a bared knuckle, trying to coax some life from his now-malfunctioning watch. Frisk glanced at it and was equally stunned by the sight; the watch was preoccupied with displaying a rapidly-changing jumble of number combinations. It then suddenly grew dim, as the battery seemed to give out. Noah let out a long sigh. “Great… I was hoping that it’d last longer than that. Sorry, Dad.” And with that, Noah removed it and placed it into the pocket of his jeans. Frisk said nothing, for memories of her own family suddenly returned. She was curious to know if they had noticed her extended absence. Really though, it didn’t matter anyway; once the storm let up, she’d be home soon enough, smirking as they ranted about how she could have disappeared. But at the moment, the two of them were stuck in a cave with various engravings in the rock, although it seemed that Noah was now very curious with one of those other engravings.

Frisk stared at the rock and was equally fascinated; it was a depiction of an event. Strangely, it showed what appeared to be a group of men with various medieval weapons charging a group composed of many varieties of mythical creatures. Noah let out a low hum, deep in thought. “First faux Latin cave writings, now Greek-style frescos. It looks like a fight between humans and, well, not humans.” Frisk noticed that many of them looked very much like werewolves or some similar creatures clad in armor and various weapons. She only recognized them as such because of some of the video games that the other kids would play, but that was as far as her knowledge went.

Among the ranks of the creatures was an extraordinarily tall creature with a crown and a trident in its hands. While she couldn’t recognize it, it did look rather like the goats that some of the local farmers raised… barring the fact that this one stood on two legs and was taller than the humans and even some of the other creatures. “What’s this one? It looks like the leader.” Noah moved closer to get a better look. “Looks similar to a satyr, and yet not quite. Do you know what a satyr is?” A headshake told him what he needed. “Pretty much just half man, half goat; the ancient Greeks may have been renown philosophers, but they were a bunch of cuckoos otherwise. But that really doesn’t explain why there is a depiction of some obscure Greek mythology in the middle of this place?” He drew his hand to the stone, curiosity flickering on his features. “If it even _is_ Greek, that is… ” Noah started to move on, but Frisk lingered around the frieze for a moment longer, curiosity gluing her to the portrayed battlefield.

It wasn’t long before they found another mural, this one depicting a very different scene. The creatures were disarmed and likely in a state of surrender, with far fewer of them in their group. The monster king was still present, but it was obvious that he was not willing to fight anymore, given that he was offering his trident to the humans. There were seven cloaked figures in front of the human army with outstretched arms, and directly in front of them - separating the humans from the monsters - was what appeared to be a barrier of some sort. The humans were apparently celebrating their victory over the creatures and their… “separation” seemed to be what this was. Noah brought his hand up to the carving, his fingers softly resting on the king of the monsters. “It really does look like some kind of Greek myth but whoever did this… well, they really didn’t pay much attention to their history books.” Frisk giggled a bit. “Is there another side to it?”

Noah paused and turned to face her, his expression matching the curious tone of his voice. “Another side to the story on the carvings? What side?” “Their side.” He blinked a few times at that. “Whose side? The creatures?” “Yeah. I mean, it may be a story, but why did they fight? Why did they stop fighting?” Noah’s expression switched from that of surprise and interest to his trademark smile. “Kid, keep going to school; they’re obviously teaching you how to ask the important questions. Who knows; maybe we’ll learn more as we go on.” Frisk and Noah continued on as thunder continued to shake the mountainside.

Soon they came upon a peculiar sight, one that seemed to bring forth every single iota of imagination possible. The tunnel that they were navigating opened into an incredibly vast room, devoid of all stalactites and stalagmites and with a skylight in the ceiling from which rainwater poured out. The floor was covered by a myriad of old vines and variously-sized smooth stones; the stones seemed to both reflect and absorb the light in the room, giving a faint flicker to the place. But that was not the strangest part of it, for a great chasm loomed in the earth ahead of them, taking in the water that fell from the ceiling. Curiously, Frisk’s headlamp and Noah’s flashlight failed to illuminate the bottom or even the sides of the chasm; even stranger, their lights even seemed to dim somewhat, as if the chasm itself was absorbing whatever light was in the room.

Frisk started to walk near the chasm, keeping a good distance from the edge that looked as if it might betray her footing. Noah stayed at the entrance of the room, briefly taking in the grandeur of the whole spectacle. She started to edge closer to peer down into the chasm, when suddenly, she felt something rest on her shoulder, gently yet firmly enough to inform her that Noah did not approve of what she was doing. “Frisk… don’t do anything stupid. Please?” She froze and looked behind her as Noah loomed over her. His expression and body language were an odd combination of concern and intimidation. He didn’t seem willing to yank Frisk back from the edge and towards the tunnel they had emerged from, but his grim expression and the iron grip he held on her shoulder suggested otherwise. Frisk smiled gently, and moved her own hand to pry his from her shoulder. Noah’s expression flickered briefly, his stern grimace giving way to… was it acceptance? He said nothing regardless, but he did release his grip.

Frisk took heed of Noah’s words, already aware that this wasn’t the wisest idea. She crouched down to one knee on the slick rock and peered down into the abyss, the constant din of rushing water providing a certain comfort to the scene. As she looked further and further down though, the water started to warp the light and disperse it. Even as she looked at what she presumed was the bottom of the drop, there was no reflection to be seen, not even a winking flicker from wherever the water finally rested. She heard something like tap shoes as Noah’s boots slowly clicked on the stone behind her. He didn’t say a word, but Frisk did hear a sigh emanating from him as he paced around in the opening of the room. Frisk scanned the cavern around the hole slowly, noticing that some rather old and woody vines were growing around the chasm in defiance of the darkness that this place seemed to naturally possess. Curiously, there was a faint glimmer from some object on the far side of the room as the light from her headlamp passed over it. She got up to retrieve it, her curiosity greatly suppressing her caution.

Frisk clambered over several rocky outcroppings as she moved to examine the object in question. Suddenly, she tripped, her vision tumbling and gyrating as she slid towards the edge of the chasm. A piercing yelp was the only noise Frisk could muster before she recovered quickly enough to check her fall by grabbing a nearby vine. “Frisk! Are you alright?” Noah’s heavy footfalls clacked and echoed throughout the cavern as he moved to assist her, as Frisk managed to better recover both her balance and her senses. “I’m okay!” Suddenly, the sound of a boot slipping on a loose rock was heard, as Noah abruptly fell forward onto his face, squawking something incoherent and tumbling forward over the damp rocks.

The next few moments were pure chaos and terror as Noah collided with Frisk at full force, knocking her already unstable grip loose and propelling the both of them into the looming chasm. _Oh, no… we’re going to disappear like the legend said, aren’t we? Where does this even_ go? Frisk’s thoughts began to race as her vision tumbled in every direction; she wondered what it’d be like to land… _wait, where was all that water even going anyway?_

All of a sudden, she felt as if something was slowing her fall; something in front of her that felt similar to spider webbing. But it wasn’t quite like spider webbing, for she could still move freely and she couldn’t feel anything on her face with her hands. Frisk soon noticed a very peculiar sound, not unlike rushing wind in a cave, which gave her more questions than answers. There was no wind that she could hear in the cave when they were exploring, so why was she hearing it now? She started wondering where Noah was, remembering quickly that he had smashed his face into the rock when he tripped. _I hope he’s not… but then again, how far is the bottom…_ She squinted to try to see anything that indicated what was beneath them, but then she realized that her headlamp was not working. In fact, she didn’t realize until now that her fall and the ensuing chaos had managed to damage the lamp enough for it to short out. She was in freefall without anything to indicate which way was up. Then the world went black, as Frisk felt a sharp pain throughout her whole body and she lost consciousness.

“Another human… wait, _two_ humans. ”

“This… this could be… _interesting._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Regarding the colored fonts, In case it wasn't obvious, they are intentional, both for plot details and to better identify who is speaking.
> 
> Regarding the overall format, I _just_ learned how to use both HTML and CSS. This was originally made in MS Word and formatted for printing, so if it looks messy or the varied lengths of the paragraphs annoy you, know that it looked _much_ nicer in MS Word.
> 
> In any case, please let me know what you thought of this first chapter, and if you happened to find this enjoyable, please share this with your friends. If you have questions, theories or speculations regarding the plot or anything about the story, then by all means, please ask away... just don't expect a definite answer if it's spoilers...


	2. Prelude - Fractured Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello again!
> 
> Since you've gotten this far, it seems that you've enjoyed this work.
> 
> I should definitely take the time to credit one of my friends for his assistance in critiquing my work before release, although as far as I know, he doesn't have an AO3 account and I doubt he'd want me to publish his real name. (If that ever changes, I'll probably come back and edit this.)
> 
> Just like it says on the title, this chapter's a prelude bit. Yeah, yeah, a prelude is typically at the _beginning_ of a work... but chronologically, this _is_ the beginning of the work. Anyway, this is mostly for anyone not widely familiar with Undertale's canonical background, but also something that will play a role within the story later on. I will say that there are sections of this that diverge both from official canon and fanon. Irregardless, this is where you're going to want to start paying attention to the little details.
> 
> In any case, enjoy!
> 
> * * *

Yet another cycle of nighttime was finished as the sunlight glimmered into the various cracks of the mountain. The metallic lines and reflective surfaces on the ceiling in spots made sure that the sunlight shone wherever the light-benders could manage to guide the light. You could hear the birds that had made their home here chirruping and calling to each other their morning greetings. It was yet another mundane opening to a day that was anything but mundane for an outsider’s view. For few abide within caves other than to seek shelter from storms or explore, let alone live within one for their entire lifetime. Not to mention that most caves could barely house a few people comfortably; the Underground was able to house thousands of people, with its own set of diverse microclimates, and it was even stranger still than just those differences alone, for the people that resided here were not even humans themselves.

Humanity was never alone, for it shared the earth with a peculiar race long before recorded history. Whereas “monster” normally means such as an imaginary creature with terrible appearance, might and intent, these monsters were only ever similar in appearance to the idea, and even then very rarely. They came in many various appearances, mostly humanoid in shape, but some not so much. As far as their personality and strength were concerned, all of them were capable of dealing damage via magical abilities that more scientific humans would call psychokinesis, pyrokinesis, or other similar paranormal abilities. While a stereotypical monster from a fairy tale usually would be described as manipulative, ruthless and cruel, these monsters were nothing of the sort, bearing no ill will towards anyone without significant and just cause; even then, they were usually quick to forgive and make amends with their aggressors.

While humans are primarily composed of water and have truly physical forms, monsters themselves are mostly made out of magic. It is likely for this reason that monsters are capable of performing their magical abilities so readily; whereas humans cannot do the same without great effort or training, monsters are far more in tune with their magical capabilities as magic is of what they are made. In addition, both humans and monsters have what most theologians would call a soul. The physical characteristics of a soul are unknown, for indeed, the true nature of a “soul” is still unknown to both humanity and monsters alike. But this much is known: a monster’s soul and its magic are dependent on the stability of its emotions and its willpower; for instance, if a monster is locked in combat, its abilities become unstable and falter when it loses the will to fight or when it becomes emotionally distraught. The former is more difficult to resolve, but it is easy for the latter to be reformed, as monsters are literally unable to exist without some degree of positive emotion present in their psyche – emotions such as love, hope, joy, compassion, kindness, and whatnot. It is not that monsters will not fight or kill, but if they can satisfactorily justify their actions, they will do whatever deed must be done.

On the other hand, humans are unburdened by such restraints; they do not need any of these emotions to exist, nor are they so easily injured by the actions of others. Indeed, a human soul is powerful enough, that it is capable of a great many things, and while the knowledge of these things has been all but lost to times long forgotten, one ability is known to exist. It is owed to the sheer power held by a human soul; even after the body is killed and destroyed, the soul can and will infinitely persist unless it is purposely destroyed. Monsters however are incapable of such feats with their own souls; in fact, if they were to be struck down and killed, their bodies would crumble to ash immediately on death and their souls would shatter. There are exceptions to this though: a rare hereditary condition that only existed in a handful of monsters that allowed their souls to persist after death, if only for a brief amount of time.

Humans are thus generally incapable of using a monster’s soul or abilities, but a monster is capable of absorbing a human soul and channeling its power into its magical abilities. Monsters, in general, were wholly against such an action, as not only would it require the death of a human, but the result would be a dreadful abomination with terrifying appearance and unmatched power. It was for this reason that a long time ago, humanity – fearing the might of a single monster with any evil intent and even one human soul in its possession – suddenly and mercilessly attacked monsters and slaughtered a great many. It was only through unconditional surrender – and the pleading of sympathizers among the ranks of the humans – that humanity spared the surviving monsters, sealing them within a mountain using a magical barrier, for the sole purpose of safeguarding humanity from the potential threat that monsterkind posed.

Yet as time went on, humanity forgot about the monsters, as demons of their own making formed and split their ranks. Humanity fought countless wars against its own created evils; years, then decades, then centuries passed as humanity forgot about monsters, relegating them to bedtime stories, fairy tales, and unexplainable mysteries of the world, and soon, even the myths faded into obscurity and death. But the monsters lived on, oblivious to the plight of their captors as they waited, prayed, hoped and dreamed for the day that they would walk free once again, without fear of humanity, and without humanity’s fear.

But all their dreams were eternally poisoned by the fact that the barrier was impenetrable to all individuals without a powerful soul. The barrier could only be destroyed with the power of seven human souls, the same number of humans that created the barrier, using what magical talents they had acquired from monsters. The barrier permitted entry to all, but exit to few, and it was believed by many monsters that humanity would never permit a single human to fall into the mountain and be claimed by the monsters within.

One day, their worlds intersected, and their lives would never be the same again.

A long time ago, a human child fell into the Underground. Injured by the fall, she cried out for help. One monster heard her: Asriel, the young prince of the Underground. He carried the child to the castle and over time, Asriel and the human became like siblings; indeed, the king and queen treated her as their own child. The Underground was filled with hope, for if a human and a monster could become friends as Asriel and the child had done, what prevented the rest of humanity from doing the same? But deep down, the child believed that it would never be possible. Her hopes for the future had been corroded and stained by a double-edged sword: the power to reverse time, to change and guide the future, to determine the course of the world’s path as she saw fit.

The human – taking the byname of “Chara” – may have only been eight years old in physical appearance, but her mind was closer in age to her adoptive parents, and likely even older than that; Chara was not sure of the true amount of time that had elapsed, for she had died an innumerable amount of times in the past. Each and every time however, she remembered everything that had passed, but nobody else would remember anything of the previous timelines save for what Chara discussed with them. Indeed, she noticed a pattern to their words and to their mannerisms; she could fully predict what they would do next, and she knew exactly what many of them thought at any given moment. While giving gifts – or otherwise making others content – continued to make her friends happy, Chara soon became despondent; it was obvious that they were happy every time that she befriended them, but she soon found it hard to take delight in the repetition, having become very much like a chore with no lasting benefit for it.

At first, she lived in dread of the moment of her eventual death; every death brought her back to the very moment when she woke up from her fall. And every time she died, everything that she had told to others would be forgotten; she had nobody else to lean on for even a modicum of support unless she went through the trouble of explaining it all to them again. Even with the support that they offered, they eventually would forget yet again because Chara would eventually die. She began to fall into a state of severe depression and emptiness such that designs of suicide began to form in her mind, but even suicide would not release her from her special circle of hell. Every death that she endured left her back at the start, first in sorrow, then in anger, and after countless deaths, she simply stopped showing any emotion at all.

It took many deaths and an extended period of despair and torment for Chara to begin trying to find a solution; she couldn’t find one for herself, but she started looking for ways to improve the lives of monsters. Unfortunately for her, as she continued in her new endeavor, she began to forget her past, save for a few key points, those points including the reasons why she chose to climb the mountain. She never forgot why she climbed the mountain to escape humanity, and she never came to forgive her transgressors. Then one day, she finally had it: her solution to the problems of monster kind. The costs were acceptable, for if she failed, she would simply be sent back to the beginning again, armed with knowledge of the future. She began to conceive of a plan to free all monsters from their prison, and it all started with an innocent mistake.

Chara and Asriel had shared many adventures over her timelines. In every timeline, Asriel was always looking for ways to cheer Chara up. True, the entire royal family was always kind to Chara, but Asriel especially enjoyed the thought of having a sibling and a friend, even if Chara didn’t always feel like she was a part of the family. Once, they decided to try their hand at baking a pie, but the recipe that they used was old and faded. Instead of using cups of butter, the children used buttercup flowers which, while harmless in appearance, contain a potent toxin. Of course they did not know this, but they made the pie anyway, as a surprise for the king. The king became gravely ill from the toxins; the queen became distressed and Asriel became sorrowful over the innocent mistake, but Chara chose to laugh it off, her emotions heavily frayed. Suddenly, her plan began to take a far darker form than before. Her hatred for humanity began to bleed over into self-hatred, and her fractured young mind knew exactly what wretched cretins such as herself deserved.

Over the many timelines that she lived, she learned that the combination of a human’s soul and a monster’s soul was enough to cross the barrier. While it was known that a monster could absorb a human’s soul, it was unknown what became of the soul, save for that a monster gained great power from the result. It was with this knowledge that her plan came to finality. She decided to poison herself with buttercups and have Asriel absorb her soul, cross the barrier that separated monsters from humanity, gather six more souls to destroy the barrier, and release monsterkind from their prison. Of course, Chara didn’t word it quite as such when explaining the plan to Asriel; she used all of her experience with him to shrewdly badger him into the plan. Indeed, Asriel was hesitant enough at first, but he soon relented; after all, Asriel always believed in “his best friend”.

Chara poisoned herself, and she soon learned how painful of an experience it was; her confused mindset told her that she deserved it, since after all she was a part of humanity too. She was confined to bed as the king and queen frantically tried whatever they could to bring her back to health. But unfortunately for the king and queen, it was not to be; as a final request, Chara asked to see the flowers in the village near the mountain, a tragic pretense for what was to happen next. Asriel started to voice concerns with the plan as he watched Chara endure the pain, but Chara’s manipulation quickly worked to suppress any doubts he had. Then, one night, Chara died, and with Chara’s past goading in full effect, Asriel absorbed Chara’s soul; the resulting form was still that of Asriel but with a much older and more wicked appearance. Strangely, Chara lived on, but having shared control of Asriel’s body with him. Taking control of their combined form, Chara picked up her own lifeless body to take from the Underground and to the village. Finding the bed of flowers in the village, Chara laid the body onto it, reminded of what drove her to the Underground in the first place.

Soon, screams rang out in the village as they were spotted by several human villagers. Indeed, the sight of a demonic creature holding the lifeless corpse of a child was more than enough to rouse the local militia from sleep to arms. Chara was disturbed enough already that the mere sight of humans taking up arms against Asriel – a case of wrong place and wrong time to boot – was just enough to alter her plan. She urged Asriel to wipe out the attacking humans, as she revealed her new plan: she didn’t want to merely take six souls. She hated humanity with such a passion that she felt that all humans should be cleansed from the earth, as they were nothing but evil in her eyes. All of the events of her timelines, her despair, her self-hatred, and her apathy piled onto Chara’s original disgust of humans and it was ready to consume the bulk of humanity at that moment.

But there was one small problem that Chara had forgotten to account: Asriel. After all, Asriel had always believed that humanity could never be so full of evil, especially because Chara was nothing but good to him and the rest of the Underground. The humans viciously attacked, fatally wounding Asriel as he regained control, recovered Chara’s body and walked back to the mountain, a bright smile on his face. Asriel returned to the Underground, collapsing in the throne room of the castle. As his body began to decay, the king and queen found him as he passed away and turned into dust, leaving behind the body of his adoptive sister.

In just one night, the king and queen lost their two children. Anger and despair soon became the order of the day in the kingdom. Humanity was blamed for the tragic loss of the children, who came to be the symbol of their hopes and dreams: humans and monsters living in peace. In a fit of blind fury and rage, the king decreed an end to the suffering of monsters; he declared war on humanity, swearing that every human that falls into the kingdom shall die. With enough souls, the barrier that sealed monsters from the surface would be permanently destroyed, and humanity would be smitten from the earth, unworthy of mercy for their crimes. As time went on, monsters continued to live in the darkness of the Underground, with only the faintest spark of courage and faith that the barrier would finally be broken. But even with such a small spark that the king’s promise had brought, they still held on to their hopes and dreams that eventually they would finally leave the Underground and escape their prison. And as the years passed, six more humans fell into the Underground.

One by one, each met their end as they were captured and killed. 

One by one, a soul was collected.

One by one, monsters began to regain hope that one day, they might be free again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> If you're wondering when the story's going to take off, next chapter (when it's polished and ready for print) should remedy that curiosity.
> 
> As always, please leave me any comments or questions that you may have in the comments section. And thanks for reading.


	3. Lucid Dreams

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that took _far longer_ than I was planning. Mostly been busy with real-life events, but also working on ensuring quality in this work. I've also been seriously contemplating on whether or not to adjust the rating for this from "Teen and Up" to "Mature", and not for a lack of valid reason either. Obviously though, you can see what my immediate decision was on that front. (Immediate being June 20, 2018.)
> 
> Now, as I stated in the notes for Chapter 2, expect a bit of a pickup in the pace, as well as less sunshine-and-rainbows and more... shall we say, "psychological terror". That is my intention anyway. In case you're curious, the draft for Chapter 4 is almost finished, as are the rough drafts for 5 through 7. Once I'm feeling confident in Chapter 4's quality, I may end up releasing it later this week or sometime the next.
> 
> In any case, do enjoy!
> 
> * * *

_Where am I?_

_Am I dead?_

_Wait, dead people don’t feel pain, do they?_

Suddenly, a flash of light greeted Frisk’s consciousness as her eyes cracked open. She noted that she was in a flowerbed of… _are these sunflowers?_ It was hard to tell; they certainly weren’t like the sunflowers that she’d seen grown for snacks. These were in a different shape, with six golden petals in an equal spacing around the head and a bronzed gold color for the center. It suddenly occurred to Frisk that there shouldn’t have been sunlight shining within such a deep cave… _unless that was all a dream… but there’s no way that could have been a dream… could it?_ Soon enough, the dull, ringing pain that she had felt earlier began to swell to the foreground of her mind. She brought her hand up to try and claw at the source of the pain in her head, but all that did was make her annoyed that she could not simply will the pain away. She began to stir up and lift herself up from the flora, noting that it was a small patch of flowers surrounded by grass. She suddenly realized that she was sitting in the middle of a ruined structure that appeared old and weathered with time. What really got her heart racing was the view above.

There was no sky above the ruins; there was a great darkness above her that was crisscrossed by a multitude of little cracks where sunlight was shining; it was the interior of the Lonely Mountain itself, the mountain from which no one returns. She began to pinch herself feverishly, hoping that she was still dreaming and she was in fact in bed sleeping; what brought her out of her panic attack was a familiar voice that only compounded her fears. It sounded slurred as if the owner was in the midst of a drunken stupor, but it was familiar nonetheless: it was Noah’s voice. “Calm down, kid. You’re going to be okay.” Frisk turned to face him but found the sight rather unsettling instead of calming. Noah was sitting up and reclining his back on one of the free-standing columns; his jeans were now tattered and soiled, his sweater had been discarded for a white T-shirt, and his left arm was now in a rudimentary sling. He waved with his free arm, now covered in medical gauss and tape and showing that he had been bleeding; the gauss was splotchy with pockets of deep crimson.

“What happened? Where are we? Are you-” Frisk impulsively asked. Noah shushed her. “Slow down there; you just woke up. Freaking out is the last thing you need to do in your state.” Frisk gawked at him, anxious to know why he was so calm when they were likely trapped for quite a long while. _Maybe even the rest of our lives?_ “ But where are we? How did we get here?” “I barely remember, but you were about to fall into the hole and I tried to catch you. Apparently, we’re both down here now.” With that, he slowly got up, and walked over to Frisk, gingerly sitting on his heels when he reached her.

Frisk was still breathing heavily as the shock of what had happened began to settle. “We’re under the mountain in a large cave system. Although I’ve never heard of a cave having grass and… daisies growing inside them.” Noah used the word ‘daisies’ with some hesitation, himself also unsure of what they were. “So… I’m not dreaming then?” Noah’s face grimaced in pain; whether it was his injuries or Frisk’s question that caused it was anyone’s guess. “As far as I am aware, kid, this isn’t a dream world… or rather, not a _dream,_ anyways. ” Frisk’s face went into a thousand-mile stare towards a particular blade of grass in front of her. Noah tapped her on the shoulder. “Hey, could be worse; we could be _dead._ Or only _you_ could have survived. ” Her gaze shifted from the grass to his face, still as deadpan and disbelieving as before. “Yeah, yeah, I know that sounds fairly _morbid,_ but it’s true. We’re both still alive.” He paused for a moment. “Heh… I’m surprised that you haven’t noticed the blanket by now.” Frisk looked around and found that Noah had draped his sweater across her while she was asleep. He chuckled as she held it up.

Frisk blinked a few times in surprise. “Oh… thanks… ” She handed the sweater back to him, stealing a glance at his arm again as her brain shifted back into gear. “No problem.” The look on her face as she stared at his arm certainly caught Noah’s attention; he flexed his wrist slowly, a fresh wave of pain knifing through his face as a result. “Eh, my sweater was a bit too warm for me. And no, it’s not broken. Pretty sure it’s just a bad sprain, but frankly, I’m not a doctor.” Frisk nodded slowly, but suddenly realized that her backpack wasn’t near her. “Where’s my backpack?” Noah shook his head as he gently donned his sweater again, the brace now on the outside. “I don’t know; it wasn’t on you when I found you. After I woke up and got myself patched up, I found you sprawled out on the flowers here snoozing. Didn’t know if you’d ‘ave appreciated me waking you up, so I figured I may as well make sure you didn’t freeze; it was pretty cold here ‘til the sun rose.”

Frisk looked downtrodden, for her backpack had a few snacks that would have been fairly delicious right now. But then again, if she had found it, they’d probably be smashed up from the impact. Frankly, she wondered how she managed to survive, so she began to check herself over for cuts and the like. “You didn’t have any obvious injuries from the fall; must have been lucky enough to land in the middle of that flowerbed, although it looks like you got a few bruises on your head anyways.” “So that’s why my head hurts.” “Probably.” Noah chuckled briefly. Frisk was still curious as to how she was unscathed but Noah wasn’t. “How’d you get that then?” “I was out cold; I remember faceplanting on the rocks in the cavern, and then I woke up in that shrub there. That’s about it.”

“So… how do we-” “-get out of here?” Frisk nodded. “Your guess is as good as mine. We won’t know ‘til we try looking for the exit, now won’t we?” He extended a hand to help Frisk up, and soon, they were both walking amongst the columns. The immediate area had a loose cluster of shrubbery, all growing unchecked; it was a stark contrast to the well-kept bed of golden flowers that Frisk had found herself on. She was the first to notice a little path of gray stone that led away from the area. “Let’s go this way.” Noah turned around to face her, noting the path as well. “Alright, let’s see where this leads then.”

It didn’t take long for them to reach a freestanding stone arch that was likely some kind of doorway. Noah took his time peering over every detail of the arch, likely trying to extract some useful information about it; Frisk simply wondered if she could safely climb it without damaging it or injuring herself. Although it took her two seconds to shake off the idea, fully expecting Noah to give her a smirk of ‘you know better’ if she dared to try. But there were other things ahead of which to take note. They found themselves looking at yet another patch of grass that, for some unknown reason, had light focusing on the center of the patch.

It was as if the light knew about the flower that suddenly emerged from the ground in front of them.

“Howdy!” Frisk and Noah were caught off guard, both by the sudden appearance of the flower and the voice that they now heard. Frisk could have sworn that she’d caught Noah cursing under his breath. “I’m Flowey! Flowey the Flower!” Noah was the first to speak up. “Was… was that the _flower?_ ” “Of course it was, silly!” Noah’s eyes focused on the abnormality as his face went gray. Frisk, on the other hand, was actually fairly calm about it, even if it came as a shock to hear a talking flower. The subject in question was no taller than a foot, and it had the same appearance as the golden flowers earlier, but it had a face with jet black eyes and a mouth. The little thing was grinning from ear to ear… or rather, the floral equivalent of ears. “Hrm… you’re new to the Underground, aren’tcha?” Breathing and paralyzed looks were the only response that the flower received. “Golly, you must be _so_ confused. Someone ought to teach you two how things work around here! Ready? Here we go!”

Frisk continued to stare at the flower, curious what it - _or was ‘it’ a ‘he’?_ \- meant by ‘how things work around here’ when suddenly, she felt a curious feeling. Her vision seemed to drain of color as suddenly, a prick of color appeared before her. What got her attention was that the colored point was shaped like a heart and colored a brilliant scarlet. She looked around and noticed that Noah had the same heart shape in front of him, only the color of his was verdant green. The voice of the flower suddenly called back Frisk’s attention. “See those hearts? Those are your souls, the very culmination of your being! Your soul starts off weak, but can grow strong if you gain a lot of LV.” Frisk’s face went blank with expression, as she tried to wrap her head around what the flower was saying. Frisk turned back to Noah, wondering if he had any idea of what- _oh, he’s got an idea, and I don’t think he likes it either._ His face was screwed into an expression of alarmed distrust. She felt like asking her question anyways, just in case Flowey meant something else. “ What’s LV stand for?” “I’m _so_ glad you asked; why, _love,_ of course!” _Well, that doesn’t sound too bad!_ But Noah’s expression didn’t change. “You want some love, don’t you?” Frisk nodded. “Don’t worry, I’ll share some with you!”

Suddenly, a cluster of white oblong pellets appeared in the air above Flowey. “Down here, love is shared through… little white… ‘friendliness pellets.’ Are you ready?” Frisk looked at Noah, who was switching stares between her and Flowey. The very wording itself sounded suspect, but she inhaled and nodded anyway, affording a modicum of trust to the flower. “Alright! Move around! Grab as many as you can!” The pellets started to fly towards Frisk, and she dived into the first volley. Suddenly, she flew back as the pellets quickly accelerated and slammed into her at full force, heavily bruising her and knocking her to the floor. Noah quickly reacted as soon as the first barrage hit, diving in front of her and wincing as the bulk of the pellets grazed into him. He rolled over to face the source of the attack as an evil laughter permeated the room, rubbing his now-bleeding face with a free hand. “ _Great,_ the welcoming committee is an evil talking flower. ” A trickle of blood seeped from the corner of his mouth.

Flowey’s face morphed into a hellish grin, his voice now taking on that of a horde of demons. “You idiot! In this world, it’s _kill or be killed!_ Why would _anyone_ pass up an opportunity like this?!?” Several rings of the pellets appeared around Frisk and Noah, all of them holding on Flowey’s command. “ Kid, stay down. Don’t move.” She laid flush to the earth as much as possible while Noah used his body for a shield as well as he could. “ _Die!_ ” And as he began to laugh in a high-pitched cackle, half of the pellets torturously closed in on the duo while the other half spun in place much faster than before, ready to strike at full force. They closed to within feet, then inches before Frisk closed her eyes, waiting for the inevitable. A brief rush of heat and wind blew past as a squawk of surprise escaped Flowey’s lips. Frisk was the first to open her eyes, noting that the pellets had vanished. She pushed Noah off of her as she took stock of what had just happened, absentmindedly noting that his figure was abnormally slack. Where the flower had been was now a scorched patch of earth, and what now appeared before them was another person, this one in the appearance of a tall cloaked figure with flames surrounding their… _is that a paw?_

“What a poor miserable creature, torturing such poor innocent youths.” She turned to face the humans, at the same time lifting her hood - _yep, those are definitely paws_ \- and revealing that she was not a human, but rather, a humanoid goat with white fur, short horns, and long droopy ears. She looked rather surprised to find the two of them here. “Oh, dear. Your friend is more injured than I thought. Come with me please.” With that, the woman summarily picked up Noah’s limp body in both arms, shifting him to one arm and offering her other to Frisk. Frisk was cautious, obviously frightened by the fact that such an innocent-looking flower could do so much to her and Noah. The woman seemed to pick up on Frisk’s hesitation. “Ah, do not be afraid, my child. I am Toriel, caretaker of the Ruins. I pass through this place every day to see if anyone has fallen down. You are the first humans to come here in a long time.”

Whomever this Toriel person was, she seemed compassionate enough; Frisk grabbed onto Toriel’s hand, and she helped her off the ground. “Come! I will guide you through the catacombs.” Frisk inspected their rescuer a bit further; she was taller than Noah, with deep red eyes and fangs in her mouth. It was slightly disturbing, but at the same time, her friendly demeanor heavily offset her appearance. They came to another archway, this one leading to a courtyard with twin staircases at the other end. The shrubbery and rocks that originally composed the background gave way to walls of a rich purple coloring, and it appeared that the courtyard itself was the entrance to a building or a city perhaps.

Frisk was overwhelmed slightly by the sight of it all; she became very determined and curious to discover what was present. Both she and Toriel climbed the stairs, with Noah still unconscious and slung in Toriel’s arm. “You are very quiet, my child. Are you tired as well?” Frisk shook her head; she was tired, but it was probably from taking a few hits from that flower. She’d walk it off. “I’m fine.” “Well, that is good to know.” They both walked through the doorway, revealing another door, but this one was closed. Indeed, there were a few things different here, namely that there was a group of six stones on the ground to the right and a switch on the opposing wall, also to the right of the door. The ground itself was the same stone as the earlier path, but instead, it was tinted with varying shades of purple.

* * *

Dreams are wonderfully bizarre models of the human psyche. They can replay recent memories, or they can glimpse into ideal yet illogical futures. They can provide a form of bizarre entertainment, or they can quickly paralyze with nightmarish imagery. Deep in ancient history, it was believed by some that dreams were the source of divine inspiration, while others took dreams to be curses inflicted on those soon to be damned by their deities. What Noah was currently experiencing did not seem to be any of the latter, but more of him replaying the moments before he blacked out to figure out just what exactly happened. He didn’t know what to make of it, and yet his brain was fully devoted to trying to comprehend it. Although there was a great deal of emphasis on the ‘trying’ part; it was hard to comprehend the mere thought of a talking flower that could morph its face on a dime or somehow conjure up pellets that could bruise and cut a person.

 _A talking flower. Either it’s a very realistic robotic flower or I’m hallucinating on some chemicals from the mountain! There’s no way that flower could have talked, let alone attack us the way it did…_ “ But it did talk and it did attack.” A voice suddenly spoke in the dreamscape. “Wait, who said that?” But before Noah could search for the source, the world suddenly turned into a monochrome field of grass. Noah saw two figures and a flower before him; he knew who they were, despite the lack of color: Frisk, the flower and himself. Although he noted that this ‘Noah’ had his fists clenched in an aggressive stance. Noah didn’t consider himself much of a physical fighter; he would much rather fight people in video games than in real life. This ‘Noah’, on the other hand, had no qualms about rushing the flower and ripping it out of the earth before it could attack, much to the dream Frisk’s horror. The flower - “Flowey” as it called itself - had an expression of joy, even as it was being ripped asunder with relentless strength.

“What am- what is _he_ doing? ” The same voice suddenly echoed behind him. “What is only the natural thing to do in this world.” Noah spun, but the imagery shifted back into his eyesight. Noah’s counterpart now stood face-to-face with Frisk. But there were several things off from normal; Frisk was smiling quite unnaturally and looked as if someone had detonated a bag of flour or concrete powder above her. There was a knife in her hand, coated with the same powder that covered her. What really set this Frisk apart was her eyes: red as a blood ruby, with a certain passion in them that complimented her smile. Noah’s counterpart was not so dusty, but his hands were raised in an open-hand stance. His expression was one of either fear or shock and the reason soon became evident: ‘Frisk’ suddenly sprung at him with a heavy slash of her blade, and he fell backward, clutching his chest as his blood soaked into his sweater, a ragged slash wound from right shoulder to left hip.

“She did the natural thing as well. Do you know why?” The voice returned as the dreamscape froze, that unnaturally bright smile etched on Frisk’s face; both Noah and his dream counterpart were, understandably, shocked by the fact that a mere child could wield a blade with such pure malice. Noah swung his gaze away from the sight, now searching for the source of the voice. It sounded mysteriously feminine and young, yet it carried a tone of refinement with it. “Who are you? What do you want with me? How is _this natural?_ ” Pain suddenly lanced into his skull and he collapsed to his knees. The voice offered no pity in its now-thundering voice. “Do you know why? Why she would attack you?”

Noah could not muster a word, as the pain throughout his body suddenly intensified and brought him fully to the floor. It felt as if someone had taken a jackhammer to every point of his skull as well as burying him in cement. The voice only rang louder as it became not a shout so much as it became an echoing shriek. “Because in this forsaken hell of a world, the rule is as simple as what was stated before: _‘kill or be killed.’_ ” Noah winced and cried out as the words began to echo and magnify. _If this is hell, then where’s the sulfur and screaming?_ “ If you do not kill, you will _die,_ either by the action of your enemies or by the inaction of your so-called _‘friends.’_ Do you understand now? ” The pain further magnified as the last sentence echoed in the dreamscape, paralysis and shock overtaking Noah’s body as he curled into a fetal position. He was too traumatized to even retreat. “Humans. Monsters. Everything in this world. _None of it_ should exist. This world is a cancerous mass that must be purged and destroyed. The first- nay, the _only_ rule of this world… is _‘kill or be killed.’_ ”

What seemed like hours passed until suddenly, the pain ceased and a warmness began to flood the world. Noah felt his muscles slacken and whatever pain had been piercing his brain began to fade away. But it was still there, as was the voice that was now barely audible but still droning on its mantra of ‘kill or be killed’. Another voice suddenly filled the world, this one distinctly masculine and rumbling with a deep bass tone of voice. “You cannot give up yet!” Noah did not respond, his mind paralyzed by the words and wondering what they meant. The dreamscape shifted again, showing a sepia-tone image of two figures: a human dressed in an ancient tunic and wielding a spear, and a figure clad in another tunic. The second was not human in appearance, for it had a pair of short horns, white fur covering the entirety of its head and paws, and large droopy ears. Strangely, the majority of the facial features of both were obscured, but the second had a crest emblazoned on their tunic, a circle with wings and a trefoil made of three triangles.

The new voice called out, the words unintelligible behind what may as well have been described as the screams of the damned. The droning suddenly stopped, as did the pain. Noah was equally stunned by the new voice to rumble in the dreamscape. “You have to stay determined!” Noah noticed that a gold light appeared in the distance, brightening as time progressed. “You cannot give up!” The light began to surround him, straining his eyes as white noise filled his ears. “You are the future of humans and monsters!” And then he heard another new voice. “Oh, you are awake! How are you feeling?”

* * *

“Welcome to your new home, innocent one. Allow me to educate you in the operation of the Ruins.” _‘New home’? Can’t we get out of here though?_ But Frisk did not utter a word, as Toriel stepped on four of the six stones and pulled the switch. The door blocking their path opened with hardly a sound. “The Ruins are full of puzzles. Ancient fusions between diversions and doorkeys.” _‘doorkeys’? That’s a funny word._ “One must solve them to move from room to room. Please adjust yourself to the sight of them.” She moved on to the next room, but Frisk noted that there was a plaque on the wall to the left of the door. _‘Only the fearless may proceed. Brave one, foolish ones. Both not walk the middle road.’ What’s that even mean?_ Frisk remembered that Toriel had not stepped on two of the stones. She came closer and noted that the ground next to the two stones was a lighter shade than the rest. _Huh. That’s neat._

Frisk moved into the next room; Toriel was waiting patiently for her to acclimate to the puzzle. This room featured a couple of low-lying aqueducts sending water to elsewhere in the Ruins; a series of footbridges kept the path uninterrupted whilst vines with purple flowers grew in several spots on the walls. More of those switches were present, but other than those features, there was nothing else of note. “To make progress here, you will need to trigger several switches. Do not worry, I have labeled the ones that you need to flip.” Frisk looked on, and indeed she had; some of the switches bore yellow markings to show which to pull. She pulled them as marked, much to Toriel’s delight. “Splendid! I am proud of you, little one. Let us move to the next room.”

Frisk found herself in another small room. There was a small mannequin off to the side of the path, the only distinguishing feature of the room so far. Toriel turned to face Frisk. “As a human living in the Underground, monsters may attack you. You will need to be prepared for this situation.” Frisk cringed slightly at the memory of the flower and at the sight of Noah unconscious in Toriel’s arms. “However, worry not! The process is simple. While you are in a fight, strike up a friendly conversation. Stall for time. I will come to resolve the conflict. Practice talking with the dummy.” _…what?_ The look on Frisk’s face conveyed an equal level of disbelief as her thoughts.

Nonetheless, Frisk moved up to the dummy. “Hello.” The dummy just stood there, still as a statue. Frisk turned to Toriel, unsure how to proceed further; Toriel just smiled wide, happy that Frisk was following her advice. “Ah, very good! You are very good.” With that, they continued on, Noah still unconscious in Toriel’s arms. The next room was seemingly barren of any puzzle, but it did have a path outlined in the ground colored with the same light purple as other puzzles before it had had. _Maybe the path is a part of the puzzle?_ Toriel turned to speak to her again. “There is another puzzle in this room; I wonder if you can solve it.” With that, she led Frisk into another corridor. Frisk noticed that there was another plaque on the wall of the corridor. _‘The western room is the eastern room’s blueprint.’ Wait a minute… that path on the ground…_

Frisk soon found herself in another room, but this was definitely not a place to be careless. There were two more aqueducts surrounding a central platform, with an exit mirrored on the other side of the room, but the main attraction of the room was the platform itself: it was covered with metal plates, each lined with large spikes that could easily impale anyone who fell on top of them. Toriel turned to face Frisk yet again. “This is the puzzle, but… here, take my hand for a moment.” Frisk did so, and Toriel set foot on one of the pads. A soft rasping of metal was heard as the spikes on that pad receded into the floor. Toriel moved calmly as though there were no spikes beneath, ready to impale the three of them at a moment’s notice. The pads didn’t immediately pop the spikes back up as soon as there was no weight on them, but after a few seconds, they did slowly move back into place. Frisk found herself sweating bullets, but soon, they made it through, the last of the spikes clunking back into place.

Toriel seemed to acknowledge that the last puzzle was a bit much for Frisk. “Puzzles seem a little dangerous for now.” They both continued on, this next room stretching an impressive distance. To Frisk’s eyes, the room continued to lengthen as they went, wondering when they would reach the exit. Toriel paused for a moment. “Oh, you are awake. How are you feeling?” Frisk looked at Noah and noted that he was starting to stir from unconsciousness. His speech was slightly slurred, and he blinked his eyes owlishly. “Wh-where am I?” His question was pocked with jaw-breaking yawns as he slowly overcame his prior exhaustion. “You are in the ruins, my child. Your injuries seemed worse than I originally thought, so your friend and I were taking you to a place to recover.” His eyes were still shut, the light overwhelming him to some degree, but he chuckled at her statement. “Heh… ‘child’… I didn’t think I looked _that_ young… ” His face then turned to one of worry. “Wait, there was another… where-”

Frisk tapped on Noah’s leg, waving when he turned to face her. He strained his eyes open in defiance of his bruises, smiling when he confirmed the image before him. “There you are, kid. That flower only bruised your pride, right?” Frisk smiled and nodded. “That’s good.” He turned to face Toriel, his eyes still squinting, but with curiosity now flickering across his face. “So, thanks for the rescue. I don’t believe I caught your name though.” “You are very welcome, my child; I am Toriel. Now, how are you feeling?” Noah’s jaw expanded wide, followed soon by a brief but forceful exhalation. “Well, I’m probably concussed, because my vision’s blurry and I’m likely hallucinating.” Toriel smirked and tilted her head in curiosity. “Forgive me, but when you say ‘concussed’, do you mean that you have a concussion?” “Yep. I like small words like that. Easier on the tongue.” Toriel chuckled at that. “Well, you certainly seem capable of more formal terms.” Noah shrugged, despite being held in Toriel’s arms like a newborn. The image made Frisk grin ever so slightly. “Eh, too much work. My skull’s still ringing, and I don’t need any more headaches.” “So, could you say that you are a _numbskull_ then?” Toriel snickered at the sound of that.

Noah stared at Toriel. “Was that supposed to be some kind of _pun?_ ” But the answer was obvious; Toriel’s face had already given it away as soon as she had said it. “Well, _tibia_ honest, I’ve heard puns about skeletons that were more _barebones_ than that. ” Frisk started grinning as Toriel quickly stifled a laugh. “Oh, I have another one. What does a skeleton tile his roof with?” “Wait a minute… it’s _shingles,_ isn’t it? ” Toriel began sniggering loudly. “Heh, that was a good hunch. These puns are not the most _humerus,_ you know that? ” Evidently, Toriel thought so too, for she paused to burst into raucous laughter. “So, think I can walk by myself then? Preferably _before_ you drop me because of my bad jokes? ” “Oh, sorry, yes, you may.” And with that, Toriel promptly set Noah on his feet while still trying to catch her breath. Frisk noted that Noah didn’t look as small as he had in Toriel’s arms, but it was still obvious that Toriel dwarfed him in general size. Even Noah seemed to notice the difference as he looked Toriel up and down. “Heh, and I thought I was tall. It’s rather _rattling_ if you ask me. ” Toriel only chuckled at this as Noah stretched his limbs. He didn’t grimace in pain, which was surprising given that very little time had elapsed between now and when that flower attacked.

“Huh. I remember there was blood in my mouth… I could have sworn… eh, whatever.” “Healing magic is very useful for most injuries, though it-” “Whoa-whoa-wait… _magic‽_ You said _magic?_ ” “I did. Do humans not have access to magic as before?” Noah stared at Toriel dumbfounded and deadpan; Toriel stared back at him, amused and intrigued by Noah’s expression. “Nowadays when we think of magic, it’s just illusions, special effects, and mind games. You’re not saying that magic is _real,_ are you? ” Toriel nodded. “I am.” Noah stared at Frisk, then stared at Toriel again. His figure became slouched and disenthused. “You’re joking, right? I mean, scientifically, that doesn’t make any sense! How does magic even exist‽” She stopped walking and mulled over her answer. “I do not think I can readily explain that to you. It is not that I am unwilling, but… “ She paused; Noah’s anticipation was quite palpable from the waiting. “…I truly do not know the answer that you want to hear. I am sorry I could not explain it much better.” Noah’s expression changed to a darkened frown. “Eh, doesn’t matter much, I guess. Now, you mind explaining just where we are then?”

Toriel flashed a weak smile. “Yes, I suppose so. Now then, I have already told your friend where we are, but I do not mind repeating myself.” Noah paused briefly. “Sure. I mean, not much else to do here, is there?” Toriel chuckled. “Oh, I am certain that there are _some_ things to do here.” And with that, Toriel continued to walk. Frisk walked up to Noah, who was still watching Toriel with a flicker of deep thought crossing his face. Breaking his trance was accomplished by grabbing his hand and half-dragging, half-guiding him along for the walk. Frisk glanced at Noah, giggling as he started to smile like the lovable clown he seemed to naturally be.

* * *

_How is she so calm with all of this?_ Noah was walking along, his smiling face heavily disguising his mental deliberations. He wasn’t walking with Frisk so much as he was paralyzed by the figure leading the both of them forward. This was not a human before them; this was something else. But if dreams could be prophetic in nature, this would have been proof enough for Noah; Toriel was of the same general appearance as the second figure in his dream, down to the tunic itself. Noah discretely examined her tunic, noting that the violet color was similar to the ruined architecture around them. The rune emblem on the tunic was the same as the one in his vision, down to the spacing and the finer details. _Was that a dream, a vision, or something else? All of this is coming out of nowhere, and it’s still…_ coherent. __

Noah calmly unwrapped his bandaged arm as Toriel went through the doorway ahead. As she spoke over her shoulder, Noah noticed that his arm was no longer was scarred and bruised, nor did it feel sore. _Weird._ “As I explained to your friend earlier, these are the Ruins. You will find many puzzles here, ancient fusions between diversions and doorkeys. One must complete them to move from room to room.” “ Alright, sounds simple enough. Solve puzzles, move forward. Yeah, that shouldn’t be too hard.” The trio was now in another room, their potential pathway splitting into a small alcove to their left and another doorway off to their right. There were several patches of leaf piles, various shades of maple red and amber providing a cornucopia of hues. “For being underground, there sure is a lot of foliage and color.” _Oh, stop being such a cynic for once; it’s pretty and you know it._

“There is-”, but before Toriel could finish, there was a yelp as Frisk charged ahead and jumped into one of the piles, giggling loudly as the leaves cloaked her from sight. Both Noah and Toriel paused, chuckling as Frisk popped her head out of the pile, grinning ear-to-ear with a few leaves caught on her clothing. Noah shook his head in disbelief. “Kids these days… you’re all kinds of crazy, you know that, kid?” Frisk stuck out her tongue as a response, not having a care of his opinion and diving back under just as quickly as she had appeared. “So… you were saying then?” “Yes, right. Now, as I was saying, there is plenty of water down here, and there is still sunlight as well. It is not as ideal for plants as the surface would likely be, but they can still grow here.” “I take it you do a bit of gardening around here then.” Toriel turned away, not immediately responding.

 _Okay… maybe I shouldn’t have said that?_ “ Um, should I forget that I said that?” Noah reached out, brushing his hand against Toriel’s shoulder. “Hey? You okay?” She didn’t turn around to face him, simply inhaling deeply and straightening her posture in a resolved manner. “I am well, my child, although I am afraid that I must ask you to remain here.” Frisk’s head popped out of the leaves, reacting to Toriel’s remark very much like a hurt puppy. “Hold on; don’t suppose you could tell us why you’re leaving us here? Can’t we come with? Where do we even go from here?” “I was going to prepare for your arrival. Although if you wish to make your own way, I have something for you.”

Toriel procured a small gray brick and handed it to Noah. “You can use this cell phone to contact me.” Noah glossed over the phone, noting the bulk and weight that it had. Frisk scrambled out of the leaves to examine the phone as well; Noah passed it to her, and she stared wide-eyed at it. “What, never seen a brick phone before, kid?” Noah chuckled as Frisk inspected every surface. It was not unlike the first generation of cell phones, but this one had a clip for latching onto clothing and a small display screen that displayed what number was dialed and what contacts were stored in the phone. Toriel’s number was the only entry. “Eh, why don’t you hang on to it? You’ll probably have more fun with it than I would.” Frisk nodded and attached it to a pocket on her jeans.

“Alright now, Toriel, what do-” except she was not there. She had already moved on. “Heh. Clever. So, kid, what’cha want to do?” Frisk hummed in thought, as her gaze went to the ground. Although it didn’t take long for an idea to take hold: the phone slid into her hand as she called Toriel. “Hello, this is Toriel.” “Hi, Mom!” Noah’s jaw dropped; Toriel’s reaction was likely similar on the other end of the call, as her voice seemed to suggest the same. “Did you just call me… ‘Mom’?” “Yep!” The awkward hesitation in Toriel’s voice was enough to shatter her normally refined tone into a smattering of pauses. “Well, I suppose… would it make you happy to call me… ‘Mother’?” “Yep!” “Well then, call me whatever you like!” Toriel promptly hung up.

* * *

“Now, I get that we’ve fallen into a world of complete and utter lunacy, and this is probably somewhat hypocritical since we don’t know each other too well, but calling some stranger ‘Mom’ even though you’ve just met her within the _last hour?_ And they’re not even _human_ to boot. At this rate, you’ll be needing a straitjacket if you keep this up. ” Frisk giggled; she was delighting in Noah’s attempts to make sense of everything. “She’s nice though. You’re just being mean.” “Says you, kid. Then again, you’re - what - eight years, nine years old?” Frisk held up eight fingers and giggled; Noah smirked in response. “Definitely a kid. So, we gonna keep going then or do we listen to your ‘mom’?” Noah’s words dripped playful sarcasm, but Frisk didn’t really care as she began walking towards the alcove area. “‘Keep on walking’, it is then. What’s next to be found: a talking dog?”

Frisk ignored Noah’s rambling as his voice faded; it wasn’t a case of tuning it out so much as it was Noah simply lowering his voice. She noticed a pedestal in the middle of the room; there were some vines and more waterways on the ground, but aside from that, nothing else of note. There wasn’t even any other doorway to explore beyond, but that didn’t matter once Frisk inspected the pedestal. Inside were a bunch of objects wrapped in plastic; a sign accompanied the bowl specifying to ‘take one.’ She took one piece and sampled it; it was soft, chewy, and sticky, with a strange flavor not unlike licorice. “So, what’s this stuff then?” He grabbed a small handful of candy, only for the bowl to suddenly fall over and smash into the ground. Frisk burst out laughing as Noah went red-faced. “It said ‘take one’, not ‘take one handful’!” “Well, for all we know, the sign could have meant ‘take one bowl’!” Frisk giggled all the more as Noah started chuckling himself. “Oh, look, I’m the scum of the earth, aren’t I?”

The shattered bowl and the scattered candy offered no response as Noah did his best to try cleaning up the mess. Unfortunately, it was a lost cause and the humans left the room, Frisk with a teasing mirth in her demeanor. Their adventuring walk continued on, as they encountered several puzzles in their way and one or two monsters would beset them with harmless conversations. Frisk would constantly chatter with them, learning names and how they and their friends were doing, while Noah would sit back, greeting the monsters but otherwise remaining distant. Frisk found it curious; for someone who was well-spoken and talkative towards herself, Noah was rather quiet around everyone else. She didn’t know what to make of it.

They eventually found themselves at another branching pathway, one path forking to the left and another continuing straight ahead to a doorway. The doorway itself led to an elevated platform with a grand view of many old and ruined buildings. Noah idly walked to the edge of the platform and sat down, letting his legs freely dangle over the precipice. Frisk was not so keen on doing the same, remembering how they had landed here in the first place. “You know, I didn’t think I’d see medieval architecture outside of museums and old cathedrals, but would you look at this?” As Noah pointed out the details, Frisk admired the arches and battlements that made up the bulk of the buildings, which were all dyed the same amethyst hue as the rest of the Ruins. “It’s pretty, isn’t it?” “You really don’t see this anymore; I mean, sure, you’ve got the Notre Dame and maybe a few other places in Europe left perhaps, but this? It’s a hybrid of Victorian _and_ Gothic. ”

 _Victorian and Gothic?_ Frisk was becoming more curious as to how Noah was spouting off random factoids like that. “ How do you know all this stuff anyways?” A shrug was his physical response. “When I’m researching stuff, it’s very easy for me to go off on tangents. One minute, I could be reading about sound waves; next minute, I’m reading about, say, Chernobyl.” “What’s that?” “Chernobyl? The nuclear disaster? Eh, some Russian engineer probably had too much vodka, hit the wrong button and blew up a nuclear plant. Poisoned the land around it for decades. This was back in the 1980s, mind you. They don’t have that many records from back then, sadly.” “Why were you looking that up?” “In that case, I was originally looking up an old video game series that my great-grandfather played when he was about my age. That game’s premise was basically: what would the world be like if there was a nuclear war…” He paused, then chuckled a bit. “I’m rambling again, aren’t I? Wow, I do that a lot.”

Suddenly, a piercing ring broke the tranquil scene. Frisk jumped as she fumbled with the phone that dangled from her pants leg. “Hello?” “Hello, this is Toriel. For no reason in particular, which do the two of you prefer? Cinnamon or butterscotch?” Frisk glanced at Noah, mouthing out the options to him. “Eh, I pick cinnamon.” “I like butterscotch and Noah would like cinnamon.” “Oh, I see. Thank you very much!” The line went dead as Toriel disconnected. “Wonder what she’s-” The phone rung shrilly, cutting off Noah and causing Frisk to jump yet again and juggle the phone briefly. “Hello?” “Hello, this is Toriel again. You do not dislike cinnamon, do you? I know what your preference is, but would you turn up your nose if you found it on your plate?” “Nah.” “Right, and would Noah mind finding butterscotch on his plate at all?” Frisk turned to Noah and repeated Toriel’s question. “Not my favorite, but I don’t mind.” Frisk relayed his answer back to Toriel. “Right, right, I understand. Thank you, by the way, for being patient.” The phone clicked again. Noah sat up, dusting off his pants. “Well… should we head to Toriel’s place then?” Frisk nodded and turned to skip ahead back towards the last intersection.


	4. Cardiac Pains

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, that took longer than I wanted _yet again..._ Guess I shouldn't be setting myself internal deadlines like this, especially if I'm going to be adding nearly two more pages of content (according to my formatting on MS Word, anyways). I'm a raging perfectionist, but I hate taking this so slow.
> 
> On the bright side, I'm still learning HTML and CSS. Paragraphs should now be indented. *blows noisemaker*
> 
> In any case, do enjoy this next chapter!

After some further time spent wandering the Ruins, a courtyard opened before Noah and Frisk. A great tree, scarred by time and devoid of foliage, greeted the pair with its many arms, all lithe and unshackled of each other. Bright crimson leaves with traces of amber were piled up around the trunk of the tree, having evidently been swept aside to tidy up the piazza. The walls that made up the bulk of the Ruins tapered to the front of what must have been a building, one with a great hulking door flanked on each side by great windows that glowed with warm light. More light shone from somewhere above the Ruins into the courtyard, bathing the tree with an inviting amber glow. Had the walls been removed and replaced with a background of rolling pasturelands, shallow rivulets of crystal freshwater, and autumnal maple groves, it would have been even more picturesque than what it currently was. Toriel emerged from the building, cell phone in hand and already dialing the number for what likely was Frisk’s phone. “Oh, dear, that took longer than I thought it would.” She brought up the phone and within seconds, Frisk’s screeched in response. Even if the noise was rather loud and jarring, both Noah and Frisk were expecting the phone’s klaxon to sound and didn’t jump like last time. The same couldn’t be said for Toriel though, as she fumbled her own phone and nearly dropped it on hearing Frisk’s phone ring.

“Oh my goodness, how did you get here so soon?” Noah chuckled. “I didn’t think we were _that_ quick. I mean, this place is more of a labyrinth than a city, and an old one at that. I’ll be honest, but I’m kinda wondering just how old some of the buildings are. ” “Well, they are almost as old as I am.” Toriel snickered. _Dare I ask how old she is… frankly, dare I ask_ what _she is._ Noah shrugged off the thought as Frisk smiled and waved to Toriel. “Oh, are either of you hurt?” Frisk shook her head as she grasped at Noah’s sleeve. “ Not a scratch, Toriel. Well, no new ones anyway.” “Impressive! But still, I should not have left the two of you there for so long. It was rather irresponsible of me to surprise you like this.” Frisk’s head turned at Toriel’s words; Noah also thought the particular wording curious. “‘Surprise’? Something we should know about?” Toriel’s eyes went wide as her words betrayed whatever her intent was. “Er… well, I suppose I cannot hide it any longer. Would you come with me please?” The humans followed her into the house as Toriel beckoned them in; Noah smelled something sweet cooking elsewhere in the house.

“Eh, what’s cooking, doc?” “Surprise! It is a butterscotch-cinnamon pie. I thought we might celebrate your arrival here, and I want you to have a nice time living here. So I will hold off on snail pie for tonight.” The thought made Noah’s stomach turn, but judging from Frisk’s reaction, she was very curious to try it herself. But something else that Toriel had said piqued his interest far more than the thought of snail pie. _‘Living here’… I really don’t like the sound of that. Just what is she planning here?_ “Here, I have another surprise for the two of you.” Toriel turned to her left – the humans’ right – and beckoned for them to follow. Frisk skipped calmly alongside Toriel while Noah cautiously strode towards Toriel. The hallway that they had entered had four doors, three on the left and one on the right at the far end of the hall. Toriel stopped at the first room on the left, opening the door wide for viewing. “This is it. A room of your own. I hope the two of you like it!” Frisk moved to Toriel’s flank and grabbed her hand; the reason for which Frisk received her nickname was easily observed as Frisk turned to look at Noah, her face beaming with naïveté and excitement.

Noah glanced in, inspecting the room. It was certainly a child’s room, with old toys sitting at the foot of a small bed, a nightstand, a wardrobe and several chests likely filled with even more toys. But there was only the one bed; either Toriel had forgotten to get a second, or she did not have one available. “I should apologize, but I do not have a spare bed that you could use. I do have a few chairs in the living room that you could use. If that is alright with you.” “Toriel, don’t worry about it; I’ve had worse places to sleep than on a floor.” The warm smell of pie began to turn smoky. “Hey, I think something’s done cooking.” “Oh, I hope it has not started to burn! Please make yourselves at home!” And Toriel flew towards the source of the smells. Noah watched her disappear as she turned a corner, then turned back to the bedroom. Frisk had already started canvassing the room, looking at everything with a curious but giddy expression.

Noah sat down at the foot of the bed, taking care not to disturb the covers too much. His eyes glassed over a box with several pairs of shoes sticking out of it, each in various sizes and designs. _Kid’s shoes. There’s probably a dozen pairs here. Not all the same sizes and styles either. Just what is going on here?_ “ Hey, uh, kid, can we talk?” “Sure.” Frisk was busy exploring the closet in the opposite corner of the room, curiously examining the various striped sweaters within. She walked out and sat on the bed next to Noah, obviously having warmed to his presence since the first time they had met. “Have you noticed that we’re not the first ones here?” “Yeah, the others must have come here too. But why did they leave?” “Who says they even left? They could have _died_ here. ” “You don’t know that. And besides, we could explore, couldn’t we? Figure out what happened to them.” Noah clicked his tongue tiredly; as much as he admired Frisk’s resolve and intuition, he was too concerned with how the world as he knew it was changing so rapidly. _And somehow, she’s acting as if this is all familiar. I’ll just play along, but this feels_ way _too surreal._

A small clock on the wall softly rang its bell seven times. Frisk yawned and slumped over into Noah’s arm. Noah, not wanting to disturb her too much, waited for Frisk to hopefully flop over and onto the bed, but soon gave up hope and simply pushed her off his arm. Frisk collapsed into the bed, apparently far more tired than what she had earlier let on. Noah walked over to the nightstand and turned off the lamp, a dimmed but warm light taking its place for keeping the room illumined. A small music box began to play a soft tune, its melody simple and short, but still memorably heartwarming all the same. Noah sat in the corner next to the closet, reclining his back against the far wall and his head against the corner, giving him a partial view of the room’s sole entrance. But he didn’t fall asleep, for he was still too wary to let his guard down. Not to mention that his previous bout of unconsciousness was hardly a pleasant experience and he was not up for a repeat.

Noah sighed contentedly as he splayed out his legs in relaxation. For a hardwood surface, the floor was fairly comfortable, neither rough nor with gaps, but each board as smooth and supple as chamois leather and expertly trimmed to fit against the other like a jumbo-sized jigsaw puzzle. He gazed around the room, wondering what its original purpose was. It had the appearance of having been a child’s bedroom for a long while, but it was hard to tell if it was always that way; the lack of dust indicated either a recent cleaning or simply an actual lack of dust to clean up. _Come to think of it… I wonder if Toriel had any children of her own. Maybe I’m just being overly paranoid like the kid said earlier._ Noah wiped his hand across the floor, strangely entranced by how smooth it felt. It was somehow relaxing, as if he were in fact reclining in a bed of satin and silk. But his thoughts were interrupted by a soft knocking on the door. Noah shut his eyes such that unless Toriel looked at him directly, he’d seem to be asleep. The floors did nothing to betray Toriel’s entry, but Noah could still see her walk in. She was carrying a platter with something steaming from underneath the cover atop it. The cacophony of smells that barraged Noah told him it was the pie she had mentioned earlier. Toriel looked at Frisk, then at Noah, a gentle smile on her face. She set the platter down, and quickly retreated to the door, being careful to shut the door as quietly as when she had entered.

 _What exactly are you doing, Toriel? Why leave a pie in the middle of the floor?_ Noah opened his eyes fully. He pushed himself off the floor and towards the door, taking care to make as little noise as possible. Fortunately, the door was less noisy when he opened it, and taking another glance to ensure Frisk’s safety, he closed the door. He walked in a stealthy manner towards where he had seen Toriel go previously, passing by a stairwell on the way and noting that he couldn’t quite tell what was down there. It was dimly lit wherever it went, but what Noah was more focused on was what Toriel was planning. He walked into the doorway, noting the dining table and trio of chairs around it. Toriel saw him walk in just as he noticed her sitting in a large recliner by a fireplace reading a book. Had Noah seen her first, he would have ducked back into the hallway and thought out a better plan. _I seriously doubt Toriel’s quite that stupid or oblivious. And she was looking_ right at me _too._  For now, it would be better for him to act merely as if Toriel had woken him up.

* * *

_Noah, she’s just being nice. Why are you being so mean to her?_ Frisk may have been asleep, but that certainly didn’t mean that her brain didn’t stop its imagination. Even in her dreams, she was ever fascinated by the various imagery that would spring into her head. She was lying down in a field of golden ripe wheat in the middle of a great prairie, the sky crystal blue with a few blemishes of white far above in the sky. Frisk loved this setting for her dreams because it made her blissfully unaware of how much city life was boring. But even in her dreams, Frisk spent plenty of time wondering about things in the real world. Such as if she would ever become a superhero. Because it was just as one person had said to her when she asked why superheroes were so cool: “ _the superheroes in comic books aren’t necessarily ‘super’ because of what they_ are _or what they_ can _do; sometimes, they’re ‘super’ because they_ choose _to be._ ”

She also remembered the same person chuckling at her after she had declared that she was going to be the world’s first real superhero. The things you say when you’re the queen of the world at the lively age of five. But really, what would stop a five-year-old from dreaming big in ways like that? Frisk remembered some older women ranting about some kind of “glass ceiling” as if they were fanatical building renovators, but Frisk never really understood quite what they meant, nor did she ever care to understand. She was too busy imagining how she would grow up and be able to fly faster than light, see through walls, catch meteors, and the like. Frisk giggled, remembering how vivid her imagination was back then; not that it wasn’t now, but she tended to dial the scale down to more mundane levels of awesomeness, such as becoming a master archer, a hard-boiled police detective, or even a fighter pilot. The myriad possibilities were rather exciting, and Frisk would often ask others what they did for a living. The answers she received over the years varied: police officer, housekeeper, retired veteran, bartender, construction worker, law clerk, cashier, teacher, and many more than Frisk could immediately recall.

Curiously, she began to think about Noah. _What did he do before he went up on the mountain anyway?_ As Frisk started to think on it, she noted that Noah was, in fact, rather mysterious; his motives were unknown, his goals opaque, his history censored to Frisk’s intuition. _Why didn’t Noah report me to the police when he first saw me on the mountain? Why did he go with me deeper into the cave? Why did he jump in between the flower and me like that? Why is he telling me not to trust Toriel? I mean, she seems like a nice lady; how could she ever hurt us? And why would she ever want to?_ As Frisk brooded deeply in her thoughts, the wheat field parted as a silhouetted figure – Noah’s, to be exact – walked up to Frisk. This Noah was only a dream, and yet it seemed as if he was aware of this state, standing at ease and smiling with not a care in the world.

“Hey, Frisk.” “Hi.” Noah tilted his head. “You seem sad. Why?” “Because I want to know something.” Noah nodded in acknowledgment. “Why are you doing all this? Why are you protecting me? Why are you so afraid of Toriel? You met me just last night and you’ve been nicer to me than you’ve been to her. What makes her so scary?” Noah chuckled and clicked his tongue. “I’m not real, you know. I’m just your dream.” “I know that. Just tell me.” He sat on the warm earth beneath his feet, crossing his legs and relaxing. “Maybe you’re a princess and he's a knight whose duty it is to protect you from harm?” Noah’s specter produced a pair of coconut halves from behind himself and rhythmically clacked them together. Frisk burst out laughing; even in a dream, Noah seemed a goofy character, as evidenced by the grin that his double now bore.

“You’re being funny.” “Of course I am. This is a dream after all. Don’t forget this is just you talking to yourself. I mean, I really don’t know why the real Noah is doing this.” Frisk hummed in thought. “Maybe he's a guardian angel, just like Gramma said?” “Hrm… perhaps…” _“ There’s always gonna be a guardian angel out there for you, honey!”_ Those words echoed in the gentle breeze that floated by, then faded away. Frisk sighed contentedly; her Gramma was always a kind woman, constantly baking some of the most delicious goodies you could sink your teeth into, such as homemade pies and bread, or simple but delicious cookies and cakes. Gramma once left her cookie jar out in the open on a kitchen counter; when she came back, three-year-old Frisk had pulled up a chair to the counter, sat next to the jar and was just then devouring the very last of the chocolate chip cookies. Gramma simply chuckled and asked Frisk to help bake some more as a “punishment”. Frisk firmly knew just who the best baker in the world was, and it was her Gramma.

Noah reclined fully against the ground, his body language not offering any further answers to Frisk’s earlier question, save for his lackadaisical lethargy. “Well, I mean, he could very well be that, but you remember what your family said about her, right? Before she died, I mean.” “Yeah… I remember…” Frisk didn’t enjoy the memory of seeing her Gramma hooked up to so many tubes and machines. Even on a hospital bed, her Gramma was always a kind and caring soul, always full of pep and ever the chatterbox to any willing to lend an ear. Surely she would live on after such a small stroke; the world’s greatest baker surely would survive such a tiny little blood clot. But sadly, the glioblastoma that the doctors had found in her Gramma’s brain was not so little and not so easily survived, but Frisk hadn’t known this. Three days after the diagnosis, her Gramma fell asleep; four days into her coma, her heart beat its last. Frisk’s family maintained that Gramma was suffering delusions when she was talking about guardian angels and her “eccentric religious superstitions”, but Frisk still recalled those words regardless. They were the last words her Gramma had spoken to her before she died, and they were words of comfort, something to console and soothe in times both good and bad, especially the bad.

“But maybe there’s another reason he’s doing this.” Noah snapped Frisk out of her trance. The menacing storm clouds that had built up during Frisk’s saturnine recollection suddenly gave way to the bright cerulean of the sky once again. “Why?” Noah raised his finger and opened his jaw as if to say something, but then retracted both. “Eh, I dunno. You should ask the person over there.” He pointed off to his left behind Frisk, then suddenly vanished into a mist. Frisk was startled by the event. But that was but a foretaste as the wheat surrounding Frisk suddenly withered and crumbled into blackened chaff. A forceful gust of cold wind suddenly blew the remains away as storm clouds redoubled and gathered above Frisk in her dream world. _This is my dream, isn’t it?_ “ It never was.” Frisk turned around at the sound of the voice, not seeing the source.

Suddenly, the world ignited as columned jets of fire erupted from the earth around Frisk. Three figures now surrounded her, each walking through the burning fields, oblivious to the pillars of hellfire bursting around them. Frisk recoiled in shock and terror as each geyser of flame burst from the ground where ripened wheat had once lain ready for harvest. On Frisk’s left was Noah, but this was not Noah as she knew him; this Noah bore a set of scars across the right side of his face, and his clothes were tattered and caked with dried blood. The figure on Frisk’s right was Toriel, but likewise, her robes were frayed and ripped in multiple spots as medieval plate armor shone underneath. But what really drew Frisk’s attention was the central figure. It looked like a girl about the same age as Frisk, with a green and yellow sweater, brown pants, and deathly pale skin that made Noah seem quite tan by comparison. The girl had rosy cheeks and chocolate-brown hair, not unlike Frisk’s own hair. But what really made this girl interesting was not the visual similarities she bore with Frisk; it was practically everything else about her that really made Frisk recoil. She bore a disturbed grin on her face, and a long, rusty knife in her right hand; her eyes were a vibrant red, glittering like rubies in fresh embers. “Greetings, partner. Time to wake up.” The ground beneath Frisk opened as a jet of hellfire rushed at her in an instant.

* * *

Frisk sprung up from her slumber, breathing heavily and shakily. She patted herself over, trying to smother the flames before remembering that it was only a dream. A very vivid and vibrant dream, but still just a surreal dream all the same. _Who was that? Was that my dream or_ what was that? She decided to look around for Noah, wondering how he had reacted to her sudden waking. But he was not in the room; there was, however, a small covered platter of something that smelled good. Frisk slid off the bed, tip-toeing to the platter and lifting the lid cautiously. “ _Mmmm…pie._ ” Toriel had to have left it in the room for her, but there was only two pieces there, one larger than the other. There were several possibilities as to why there was a second piece there, one such with Noah and Toriel having eaten the rest of the pie. Frisk decided to leave the second piece there for him, but she noticed a slight difference in size between the pieces. She took the smaller one, mostly because she didn’t feel quite that hungry anyway. Sinking her teeth into it, she noted that it was butterscotch and cinnamon for flavoring; it was just like how her Gramma used to make it.

* * *

Toriel smiled as Noah walked into the living room sleepily. Or as sleepily as Noah could fake, anyways. “Did I wake the two of you? I was hoping that I would not be so loud when I entered.” “Eh, you’re fine. She’s still out like a light. And I was just about to nod off, but then I heard the door.” _Heh, funny enough, had she taken any longer, I might have actually fallen asleep._ “Oh, forgive me, I was merely checking to see if the two of you were alright.” “Well, we’re fine, thank you.” Noah didn’t mean for his response to sound so terse, but Toriel didn’t seem to notice. She did, however, seem to pick up on something else in his body language. “Is there something on your mind?” _…crap. Do I lead off with “what kind of human are you?” or “when can I wake up from this dream now?” Either of those questions might end up with me being dead though. …actually…_ “…um, yeah. You were talking earlier about, uh… ‘healing magic’, and you said that you didn’t know ‘the answer that I want to hear’. So, uh… what’s the answer that you do have then?” _I’m actually curious to know what she has to say about it._

Toriel took off her reading glasses, pondering her answer. “Well, I suppose you could say that magic is how we express ourselves. An extension of one’s will, in a way. How it manifests depends on its source, but its power and stability are directly tied to our emotions. Specific emotions and their intensity can determine how potent certain kinds of magic can be.” “…how so?” “Well, take anger for instance. It is a strong emotion, but too much of it can blind you into doing things you would not normally do. The same applies to magic. Strong emotions such as anger can cause magic to become much more powerful, but there is also the risk that it may become unstable. Now on the other hand, ignoring your emotions can cause magic to become more stable or precise, but it will not be as powerful as it otherwise could be.” “So… like how a surgeon would keep their cool during an operation?” “Exactly like that, young one.” Noah stood with a blank expression on his face, slowly digesting what Toriel had said. _That… actually makes a bit of sense. Sort of._ “ So… that’s it? It’s just using your emotions like some kind of throttle?”

Toriel smiled warmly. “That is actually an apt description for it.” “So… what is magic itself then? You’ve told me how it works, but I’m failing to understand what it is. Is it like some kind of all-pervading mystical energy or is it some kind of really fancy… pseudo-nanotechnology?” Toriel clasped her chin in pensiveness, likely considering an answer. “You are right; I did not tell you what it is. Would you come with me please?” Toriel closed the book that she had on her lap, stood from her recliner and placed the book back on the bookshelf next to the fireplace. She walked outside to the ‘front yard’ – Noah couldn’t think of any other analogous place in a human home – and moved to the right of the tree and the door. “If you are looking for a scientific answer, I am afraid that I cannot help you. But here is an answer that might help you to better understand magic.” She snapped her fingers and red flames erupted from her hands. Noah jumped back, stunned by Toriel’s abrupt self-immolation.

“What the– _are you_ _nuts_? ” “Is my hand burning?” Toriel seemed rather amused by Noah’s primitive reaction, but Noah was still shocked by the display. But as the panic subsided, he drew closer and noted that Toriel’s rhetorical question was more of an answer than he first thought. Her hand was not showing burns of any kind, not even a single strand of fur was singed. “How…how are you not _burning yourself?_ ” “It is as I said before. ‘An extension of one’s will.’ Magic is capable of many forms, including fire. Now a roaring fire is untamed, dangerous to anything in its path. ” She suddenly swung her arm in a short uppercut, the flames suddenly burning blue.

As her fist hit the apex of the blow, the flames shot from her hand in a fanciful burst; streams of blue and white fire twirled and twined in an expanding double helix that would have likely incinerated anything in its path. Noah flinched, but the shock was much less than when Toriel first ignited her fists. She unclenched her fists, the flames quickly cooling to orange and shrinking to embers levitating in the palms of her hands. Noah was still astonished by the display, but he was curious as to the method and cause. “Fire is associated with passion or strength for that reason. But fire can be found in many states. A small fire like this can provide light and warmth without harming others.” “‘An extension of one’s will’…” “Exactly.”

Noah contemplated the present dialogue, intrigued by Toriel’s answer, but left with even more questions, some for which he wanted a solid answer. “But how are you doing this?” Toriel looked pensive; it was plainly visible that this was not the first time she had been asked that question. “Another human – a child who fell down here long before you – asked that same question of me. He asked many questions, much like yourself and he kept writing them down in a notebook he brought with him. Unfortunately, I have the same answer for you as I had for him: I do not know.” Noah whistled softly in disappointment. He noted that Toriel sounded fairly dejected when she brought up the other kid. _Either she’s trying to pull crocodile tears or she_ really _doesn’t like thinking about it._ “ Well… is there something similar to compare it to? An analogy, a toy perhaps? Anything?”

Toriel smiled patiently. “I wish I could give you a better answer, but magic comes so naturally that… it isn’t easy to describe in detail to a human.” “So… kinda like breathing then? Do it all the time, maybe know the mechanics of ‘how we breathe’, but never really give the ‘why’ of it much thought?” “Well, yes, that is actually a good example. Actually, the child I mentioned before, he likened magic to dreams; both exist, but we do not know why they exist.” Toriel stifled a chuckle, tears welling in the process; the flames in her hands flickered out and died. “Strange, is it not?” “What?” “I feel as if you and I have known each other for the longest time, and yet, I know it cannot possibly be. I have only just met you, and yet somehow, when I called you and your friend earlier, I somehow guessed that you would want cinnamon and she would want butterscotch.” “What, like some kind of déjà vu?” “Exactly!” Toriel sighed wistfully, obviously pleased with the dialogue between Noah and herself. “You remind me of that child in many ways, although he was much shorter than you.”

Toriel chuckled; Noah didn’t react. “ _‘Was’…_ past tense. Did something happen to him? ” Toriel’s eyes flashed, her reflective manner suddenly giving way to anger and resentfulness. “The same thing from which I would protect the two of you. He left the Ruins, like those before him.” “Wait, what? Why do we need protection? And what do you mean by ‘those before him’?” Toriel stared at him, eyes burning with subdued fury. _Please don’t kill me; I_ really _didn’t mean to piss you off._ “There were six before the two of you. They fell down, and they came here. I had hoped to protect them, but every human that has fallen has met the same fate. They come to the Ruins. They leave. They die.” _Well,_ this _took a turn._ “ How? Who in their right mind would kill a _child,_ let alone _six?_ ”

Toriel’s face fully resolved into anger, her fists visibly radiating heat as her mood quickly soured. Fortunately, it didn’t seem to be directed towards Noah, but he remained wary all the same. “Asgore. He killed them. I had hoped to protect them from that fate.” “Well why did he kill them?” _Gee, I_ really _need to learn when to shut my mouth._ She did not answer, choosing to bow her head with her mouth taut in anger. As she started to walk back to the house, Toriel paused. “Because he was a fool and a coward.” Her response was cold and terse, far unlike her otherwise warm and welcoming voice. Suddenly, she threw a hefty jab to her left, her fists igniting at the same time. The accompanying surge of blue-white fire made Noah jump back in instinctual fear as a two-meter-wide circle on the wall went from deep rich lilac to charred midnight in color.  Yep, _time to shut the hell up now._

Noah stared at the wall that was unfortunate enough to be selected as a vent for Toriel’s fury. Embers still spewed smoke as residual heat emanated from the impact point. _Whoever this ‘Asgore’ is, he’s managed to piss off an old lady with a_ hell _of a punch. Really doesn’t strike me as the kind of guy I’d want to sit down and have a beer with._ Noah walked back to the house, taking care not to come into Toriel’s path just in case she was still agitated. He went back to the bedroom where Frisk was likely still napping. As it turned out though, Frisk was quite awake, jittering like she could run a full marathon; Noah glanced at the platter, noting that there was only a small slice remaining. “ Don’t tell me you ate all of that pie by yourself, kid; no wonder you look like you’re gonna blow up the mountain.” Frisk shook her head with the gusto of a man having a severe seizure, giggling all the while from Noah’s quip. “Wait, you didn’t eat any? Here; have this piece then!” “This one’s tiny.” “No, that one was bigger; I ate the smaller one that Toriel left!” She laughed quite merrily, so much so that Noah was starting to wonder if he should actually eat the pie or not. _Maybe I’m just being overly paranoid again… heck if I know anymore. I mean, there’s a talking goat lady… or whatever the heck she is._

Noah chuckled, picking up the remaining slice and sitting on the bed next to Frisk. He felt somehow relieved that Frisk was okay. Frisk seemed to calm down now that Noah was present, for whatever reason. _Crazy kid; you’re worse than–_ “ Noah?” “Yeah?” Frisk stared at him, curiosity flickering on her features for a brief few moments. “Do you think there’s a way out?” “I’d have to think so. But didn’t you want to stay with Toriel?” “Well, yeah, but…” Frisk paused. Noah waited by taking a small bite out of the pie, noting that it was just as good as it smelled. He placed it back on the platter for later, noting that he wasn’t too hungry anyway. “I want to see what else is out there.” “Thrill of adventuring; I gotcha. Are you sure that’s it though? She seems friendly enough. Don’t you want to stay with your ‘mom’?” Noah stifled a chuckle as he remembered both Frisk’s recent name for Toriel and the incinerated patch of the wall. Frisk didn’t answer though, preferring to play with her thumbs instead. “You know, I’ll just pretend that you answered with a ‘yes’ for the first question.” Noah stood up and walked to the door. “Now, how ‘bout we ask Toriel where the exit is then; sound good?”

After a short delay, Frisk nodded, and hopping off the bed, she followed him to the dining room. Toriel had returned to her recliner and was reading her book, having calmed down significantly since. As soon as Toriel noticed Frisk and Noah both awake, she smiled calmly. “Up already, I see. Did you rest well, my child?” Frisk nodded. “Oh, good. At least I did not disturb you.” “Sleeps like a rock, I’d say.” Toriel chuckled. “I want you both to know how glad I am to have someone here. There are so many things I would like to share: old books, my favorite bug-hunting spot, new recipes for pies that I have been curious to try. I have also begun preparing a curriculum for your education.” Noah felt a strong urge to inform Toriel that he had already graduated high school but chose not to. _Maybe she was talking to her; maybe she knows some college-level stuff I could read; I dunno._

Toriel continued on. “This may come as a surprise to you, but I have always wanted to be a teacher.” She paused, suddenly brooding on her words. “Actually, perhaps that is not very surprising. Still, I am glad to have you living here.” Noah noticed Frisk softly tapping her feet anxiously for whatever reason. “Oh, did you want something, small one? What is it?” Frisk stepped up to Toriel, not quite aware of the literal firepower that resided in her fists. Her voice was soft and timid, much unlike earlier when Noah walked into the bedroom. “When can we go home?” Noah flinched. _Well, we’re dead._ Toriel was, understandably, taken aback. “ _What?_ This… this _is_ your home now. Um… would you like to hear about this book I am reading? It is called ‘72 Uses for Snails.’ How about it?” Frisk’s face was not visible to Noah, but given that Toriel continued to smile awkwardly at her, it wasn’t the kind of face that expressed interest in what sounded much like a culinary book. _Please say yes; I’m in no mood to try defusing a nuclear bomb._

“How do we leave the Ruins?” Frisk’s voice was far more timid and gentle than the last question. Noah winced; he had a hunch that Toriel would likely snap if Frisk kept up the ‘gentle child’ act. “Um… how about an exciting snail fact? Did you know that snails…” She hurriedly scanned her book, desperation stealthily seeping into her tone. “…sometimes flip their digestive systems as they mature? Interesting, isn’t it?” Frisk did not seem to be either amused or intrigued by the factoid. On the other hand, Noah – with his lack of knowledge in the field of gastropod anatomy – was curious as to the veracity of that factoid. “How do we leave the Ruins?” Toriel set down her book and reading glasses once again. “I have to do something. Please stay here.” She hurriedly walked to the main hallway and down the stairwell, leaving behind Frisk and Noah.

“So, um… what’s your plan, kid?” He turned to face Frisk, but Frisk was already moving past him into the hallway. “What’re ya doing?” “Following her.” She started down the stairwell; Noah leaned on the railing above her, peering into the relative darkness of the passage. “Please tell me you’re not going crazy, are you?” Frisk looked at him with a smirk on her face. “ _May_ -be.” She returned to her relatively calm pace and continued on into the basement area. Noah jumped the railing, landing as gingerly as he could on the landing behind Frisk. “Hey, do you even have a plan here? I mean, you sure she isn’t like that flower?” Frisk didn’t respond, choosing instead to focus on Toriel, who was visible and just ahead, having stopped for some reason. Frisk paused a full nine yards behind Toriel; Noah moved just behind Frisk, unsure of both Toriel’s motives and Frisk’s.

Toriel briefly glanced over her shoulder, noting that she had been followed. “You wish to know how to return ‘home’, do you not? Ahead of us lies the end of the Ruins. A one-way exit to the rest of the Underground.” She paused, either for dramatic effect or to steel herself. “I am going to destroy it. No one will be able to leave again. Now be a good child and go upstairs.” _Hey, what about me? Wait, did she even notice me?_ She continued on, as did Frisk just seconds after Toriel started walking; Noah remained briefly, grimacing as he noted the speed at which this situation was headed south. “ Frisk, are you sure about… whatever it is you’re planning?” “Yep.” She called back over her shoulder, hell-bent on pursuing Toriel. Noah sighed in exasperation; there was nothing he could say that would stop Frisk, it seemed.

Yet again, Toriel was stopped ahead, Frisk continuing to follow behind her. “Every human that falls down here meets the same fate; I have seen it again and again. They come. They leave. They die. You naïve child…” She inhaled heavily. “If you leave the Ruins, they – Asgore – will kill you. I am only protecting you, do you understand? Go to your room.” Toriel continued on. Noah reached out and grabbed Frisk by the shoulder firmly before she could continue; she turned to face him, resolve now mixing with a bit of confusion as she questioned Noah’s grip. “Just what exactly are you thinking of doing?” “Leaving the Ruins.” “Yeah, I think I got _that_ part. But how? ” “By walking out.” Noah stared with a raised eyebrow. “ _So_ … just like that?” “Yep. Just like that.” There was a long pause as Noah and Frisk stared at each other, the older more apprehensive, the younger more resolute. “But why? It’s something _other_ than ‘wanting to go home’, _isn’t it?_ ”

Frisk looked away, choosing not to answer. “Still gonna keep secrets then?” She nodded slowly, receiving an exasperated sigh from Noah as he released his grip on her shoulder. _Okay, I’m dealing with an extremely clingy, old… ‘goat lady’ and an eight-year-old girl who wants to get out of here for… well, for_ whatever _damn reason she’s got; this is gonna be fun. Oh, and let’s not forget the stupid flower! Can’t have a truly screwed-up day without sentient demonic flora trying to kill you whenever it gets the chance!_ They continued on, as Toriel rounded a corner, stopping in front of a doorway. For a gateway leaving an ancient city ruin with many walls and battlements, it was fairly modest, bearing the same hue as the walls around it and bearing the same rune sigil on its façade as was present on Toriel’s clothing. _If we all get out of this on speaking terms, I’m asking just what that symbol is and why she’s wearing it, because I keep seeing it_ everywhere _and I really hate not knowing just what it’s supposed to be._

Toriel, for her part, had her head lowered, obviously not enjoying how the situation was playing out the way it was. “Do not try to stop me. This is your final warning.” Frisk approached ever closer; Noah stood behind her, not too keen on taking a lance of fire to the face. “Good luck getting her to stop, Toriel. Believe me when I say that I tried myself.” Toriel clenched her fists briefly, heat radiating for a split second. “Do you _both_ want to leave so badly?” Noah mulled over his answer briefly. _Well, if I turn back, who’s to say I won’t feel like I’d just backstabbed the kid… guess I’m biting the bullet._ “ Well, I hate to break it to ya, but the kid’s pickin’ for me. Some directions past the door here would be nice, if you could please.” She sighed in annoyance as her voice started cracking ever so slightly. “Why must you wish to leave as well? You are _both_ just like the others.”

Her voice steadied as her fists relaxed, embers now budding around them. “There is only one solution to this. Prove yourselves.” Both Noah and Frisk took alarm at the command. “Wait, what? What do you mean by–” “Prove to me you are both strong enough to survive.” Toriel turned around, her body language and expression very easily read at this moment; Noah saw a woman who was violently unwilling to let go of the children that she loved. It was the faint tears now running down her cheeks, the wincing grimace of her jaw, the cracking tone in her speech, the star-like glint in her eyes, and the roaring flames now engulfing her fists: all this told Noah that Toriel was extraordinarily protective. Frisk started to walk up to Toriel, likely hoping to initiate a dialogue to convince Toriel to stand down and let them through.

Suddenly, the world went monochrome in Noah’s vision, just as it had with the flower. Though just like before, it wasn’t completely monochrome, as two heart-shaped pricks of light showed themselves, one green and one red. The hearts hovered in front of Noah and Frisk respectively for a brief second before disappearing and the world regained its color. Whatever it signified, it wasn’t good, given what had happened last time. “What are you doing?” Toriel did not respond, at least not with words anyway; Noah jumped to his left as a geyser of azure fire rushed to where he and Frisk were previously standing. Toriel retracted her now-glowing arm from the cross strike she had launched. “Toriel, stop this; we’re not fighting you!” No verbal response was given, as Toriel cocked her arm and sprung it into an open-hand swipe. Spheres of orange flame marked where her fist had traveled, suddenly launching and guiding themselves towards Noah. He dived and rolled forward, narrowly evading the fireballs as they smashed into the ground behind him.

“Toriel!” Noah stared at her, wondering just what she was thinking. _How would we be capable of surviving…_ this? Toriel, for her part, was intrigued by something; her brow was raised as if she were expecting a response of some kind. Toriel brought both of her arms behind her, as the flames wrapping around her fists began to glow blue. She clapped her hands together forcefully, as a great cone of cobalt surged towards a fear-paralyzed Frisk. Noah could do nothing but watch as the flames roared over Frisk, leaving behind… _how the hell did she survive_ that? Frisk was unharmed, but she was visibly shaken by her close brush with death. Noah glared at Toriel, thankful that her attack didn’t injure Frisk, but angered by the psychological trauma that Toriel had likely inflicted. Although Toriel was visibly confused by something. _Don’t tell me you were actually expecting her to_ die, were you? _And she called you_ “Mom”, _you two-faced–_

Noah’s thoughts were disrupted, as another burst of crimson-gold embers chased Noah and dove into the stonework next to him. “What are you two doing? Attack or run away!” Noah felt a burst of outrage take over his mouth. “Oh, _that’s_ what you’re doing? A _warrior’s_ test? Just how the hell would– ” A sapphire stream arced towards him; had he not ducked, it would have fully engulfed him. Frisk’s voice echoed faintly underneath the din of the flames, calling to Toriel about something. Toriel’s fists remained stoic and unflinching, but the flames on her fists were starting to flicker and sputter like metal scraping on a grinder. “What are you proving this way? Fight me or _leave_!” Curiously, Noah thought her voice had started to crack slightly, but he had little time to actively ponder why. Toriel swiped both of her arms in succession, leaving more trailing flames. As they coalesced into their proper form, Noah noticed that the embers seemed to become unsteady in their path, wobbling much like a bad pitch in baseball. _Wait… she’s getting a little unstable, isn’t she?_

Noah clumsily evaded the barrage intended for him, while Frisk lithely hurdled over her own set of flames. Noah stared at Toriel, a combination of anger, disappointment, and fear directed at her; Toriel was similarly displeased with Noah, but for patently different reasons. “Stop it.” “You first.” She looked at Frisk, who was apparently giving off a comparable air; Noah couldn’t quite tell thanks to the residual smoke in between him and her. “Both of you, stop looking at me that way.” Her voice began to falter ever so slightly, yet her gaze narrowed and the flames of her fists began spark even more. She threw a cross punch, but the aftereffects were visibly quite different from her opening salvos. The flames were closer in color to red than they were blue, and instead of tight helical streams, it was more chaotic zig-zags like a burst of lightning.

Noah and Frisk continued dodging, but Noah soon noticed that the flames were not quite as well-placed as before. Where it looked like he should have been nicked by a clump of fireballs, each would suddenly veer around him as if he was in their way. Toriel was looking down, not as focused on the battle as she originally was. Strangely, Noah noticed a growing cloud of smoke as embers continued streaking around a particular spot. A hole in the smoke opened briefly, but the brief split second view it provided was enough to spot Frisk standing in place; as she did, the fire intended for her merely arced around and past her, hitting the wall instead. _Wha… why isn’t Toriel hitting her? She’s got the kid_ rightthere!Frisk started to inch towards Toriel and the flames mysteriously parted before her, further adding to Noah’s current confusion. _Is she_ trying _to miss or what the hell is going on? I thought this magic crap was like an omnipotent force of will, not a psychic scattergun!_

Toriel glanced up, noting that Frisk was approaching; Frisk paused suddenly, likely fearing another barrage. “I know you both want to go home, but… but please… go upstairs now.” Frisk began walking forward, her face not visible to Noah. Noah remained in place, preferring to have some breathing space to dodge any more sudden attacks. Toriel smiled softly, tearing up in the process. “I promise I will take good care of both of you here. I know we would not have much, but… we can have a good life here. Could we not?” Frisk continued her slow advance, closing to within reach of Toriel’s arms, which currently were at her sides. The flames of her fists were still present and raging with power, but they were much smaller now.

She seemed to be in no mood to continue her attack, sinking to her knees in what must have been sorrow. “ _Please._ Why are you making this so difficult? Please, just go upstairs. I beg you, children.” Frisk stopped within an arm’s reach of Toriel, who was busy staring at the ground in between them. She chuckled softly. “Pathetic, is it not? I cannot save even a single child.” Frisk knelt on the ground beside Toriel, putting a hand on her shoulder; Toriel took Frisk’s hand in her own, smiling at the gesture. “No, I understand; you would just be unhappy trapped down here. The Ruins are very small once you get used to them.”

The residual embers around the corridor and the flames on her fists dissipated and sputtered out. Noah didn’t approach Toriel immediately, unsure of what was going on. _So… are we good here then? Nobody’s dying right now then?_ “It would not be right for the both of you to live in a place like this. My expectations, my loneliness, my fear… for both of you, I will put them aside.” She stood up to her full height and inhaled deeply. “If you truly wish to leave the Ruins, I will not stop you. However, when you leave, please do not come back. I hope you understand.” She stooped down again and hugged Frisk. For some reason, the picture was too familiar to Noah. _Why does this feel so… familiar? I couldn’t have seen this before, right?_ _You’re wrong; this isn’t the first time you’ve seen this._

Noah flinched as a voice not unlike that from his dream echoed in his head, but the voice did not loiter for long, leaving Noah with the curious statement. Toriel took notice as Noah began rubbing his temples, residual pain beginning to resurface. “Are you alright?” “Y-yeah. I’m fine. Just felt my head spin a little bit.” _Liar; why can’t I just tell her– ‘That you hear voices in your head’? Because crazy people say that, Noah._ The voice chuckled as he winced in pain; Toriel walked up to him to look him over, her face stern but kindly as she gripped his shoulder. “You are not ‘fine’; even I can tell as much. Are you alright? I did not harm you, did I?” Frisk stared at Noah, her expression one of concern. Noah stared right back at Frisk, then looked at Toriel; she was expecting an answer and given her expression, she was going to get it. “Nah, Toriel, you’re fine; no burns. It’s just a headache; nothing big to worry yourself about.” _Tell. Her. The._ Truth. Toriel didn’t react at first, but after a brief moment of reading Noah’s face, she let go of him. “Are you sure?” “...hundred and ten percent.” Toriel relaxed, if only briefly.

“Well, I believe this is where we say goodbye then.” Toriel walked back down the corridor towards the house. “Why are you leaving us? I don’t think I quite understand; couldn’t you come with?” Toriel froze, the words falling on her ears heavily, perhaps as echoes of the past from the children who had asked the same. Had her face been visible to Noah, he could have more easily ascertained what effect his words had had. But he could guess enough based on how Toriel bowed her head low and tightened her fists briefly. “Why do you ask this of me. To be a witness to your death. Do you resent me for what I’ve done?” Noah rubbed the back of his head, absentmindedly wishing he could take back what he had said. “Well, uh… who said we’d be killed? It’s not like we can’t defend ourselves, right?” Toriel didn’t flinch. “And if you cannot defend yourselves? What happens when you meet a truly _unstoppable_ force? What happens when you are caught in a corner against someone who cares _nothing_ of your pleas for mercy?”

It became quiet enough that Noah could hear a gust of wind blow softly outside the door. _Think, damn it; she’s got a point._ “ Well, uh… we could kill them before they can kill us. Couldn’t we?” Toriel brought a one-eyed death glare over her shoulder. “That’s, uh, that’s definitely a _‘no’._ ” _More a ‘what the_ hell _were you thinking‽’ honestly._ “ Then we’ll keep living.” The sudden words from Frisk caused both Noah and Toriel turned to face her; she was sitting cross-legged on the ground and facing the door away from them, apparently in some kind of meditative stance. “ _What?_ Kid, are you serious? If you’re backed in a corner, facing off against a-a-a... a pure _demon…_ how exactly do you plan on defeating them without killing them and without being able to defend yourself? ” “We’ll just survive.” Noah chuckled at Frisk’s doggedness. “Kid… you’re just a brick wall in more ways than one, you know that?” A snicker was the only clue that she had heard him. Noah turned to Toriel again, curious to know her response; Toriel was smiling gently, just the same as when she had welcomed them to her home earlier. “Are you really gonna say ‘no’ to the kid after that?” Toriel chuckled. “I do not suppose I have a choice, now do I?” “‘fraid not.” “Well, could we head back upstairs? There are some things we should pack if we must go.” “Sounds good.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Anyone call the fire department yet? Wait, hang on... gotta fix something quick.  Ah, there we go. Well, guess that's your clue as to who's showing up in 5. And yes,  this guy will be joining us as well.
> 
> Awww... the mobile site seems to screw up the font...


	5. Echoes in the Forest

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Polishing this chapter gave new meaning to "burning the midnight oil", given that I _literally started writing this summary at midnight._ Would someone care to educate me on what this concept of sleep is?
> 
> So, long story short: chapter 5 right now (July 17th, 2018). 6 probably later this week, just so you have something to look forward to and so I can do more quality checks. (Good grief, I'm just anal about quality, aren't I?) 7 is still simmering, 8 and 9 are still being drafted. However, I've got the plot laid out for 10 thru 14. (I do not recommend writing a story by the seat of your pants. Do not follow my example of having a beginning and an end but no middle.)
> 
> In any case, please enjoy this next entry!
> 
> * * *

“I _really_ don’t think we need to pack this heavy. ” “If we run into a blizzard, it would be best to stay warm.” “Yeah, but this is ridiculous; how is she supposed to even _move_ when she’s wearing five winter coats, two sets of snow pants and all this other stuff? You got a kitchen sink you want to throw on her as well? ”

Noah laughed as Toriel paled in realization. The reason was all too obvious as Frisk looked like a clone of the Pillsbury doughboy of old, what with the heavy layering of winter gear that currently enveloped her. It was actually impressive that it all managed to fit, but then again, the outermost layers were of larger sizes than what Frisk would have otherwise worn. Had Noah merely tapped her, she’d likely end up rolling over onto the floor of the guest bedroom and have a difficult time recovering; the thought was humorous enough that he actively considered giving her a little shove. Toriel, on the other hand, was mulling over how best to protect Frisk from the elements without sacrificing too much mobility. “I suppose this is too much for you, small one?”

Frisk responded verbally, but the trio of scarves that produced a makeshift face mask served to muffle her voice into more of a mumbling noise. It was like a character from an old TV show that Noah’s grandpa used to watch. Noah snickered; he had fond memories of the show, its foul-mouthed characters, and their nonsensical and oft-tasteless shenanigans. Frisk’s stifled annoyance reminded him of the show even more so … even as she swung her fully padded arm into his abdomen. It actually stung a bit, but what little pain soon gave way to a slightly bizarre mirth for Noah. “Must striking him be your answer to his teasing, little one?” Noah sniggered heavily as Frisk glared at him underneath the scarves, muttering something unintelligible. The sight and sound only served to revive the memory further. “Sorry, kid; you just reminded me of someone from an old TV show.” His voice began to break into laughter halfway into his apology.

Toriel stared at Noah with a glint of curiosity in her eye. “Noah, I do not think you should be indulging in television so much.” “Oh, oh, _trust me,_ the show I’m thinking of is _not_ something you’d want to watch! ” “And why is that?” Noah immediately ceased his laughter, an awkward moment being further punctuated by his silence. “Because it’s for really immature adults like me and you’d think less of me as a result?” Toriel raised an eye, but said nothing further, choosing to not broach the subject. _Yeah… if she saw any of that show, I think Asgore would become small potatoes compared to… well, hopefully not me, but_ definitely _the screenwriters._

Frisk didn’t attempt to say anything, merely staring at him for a brief moment. Either she understood just what Noah was referencing, or she was merely dumbfounded by the level of stupidity that Noah was displaying. She then walked… or rather, waddled up to Toriel, likely hoping that she would remove some of the equipment. The image only made Noah chuckle even more. Fortunately for Frisk, Toriel was willing to remove the clothing, already in the process of unwrapping the scarves. It only took a couple minutes for Frisk remove the majority of the winter gear, saving for herself only a coat, hat, gloves, boots and a set of snow pants.

Noah leaned against the doorframe, having already suited up with an old windbreaker jacket as the sole addition to his attire of jeans and a hoodie. Had it not been for Toriel harrying him earlier, he wouldn’t have even brought the windbreaker. _“At least bring something along for my sake!” “ Alright already!” _It was a nice coat though, tinted with a gunmetal blue-gray and made with what felt like cotton, but far lighter and sturdier. _I wonder who used this before me; unless this thing shrunk or it got tailored, it’s definitely not Toriel’s._ Noah’s thoughts drifted back into focus, noting that while Toriel had been pressing the importance of winter survival, she didn’t have any winter clothing ensconcing herself yet. _Well, maybe she needs it, maybe she doesn’t. Feels awfully warm in here though without the winter gear._ “So, is it gonna be cold the entire way or just past the Ruins here?” “Our path through Snowdin Forest is fairly short, but it is cold enough that you would not wish to remain there for very long.” Noah scoffed. “Might be true, but then again, I tend towards being too foolish to realize when it’s too cold for me. Guess that’s just how cold-blooded I can be.”

Toriel stared at Noah briefly, not quite catching his pun at first, but she chuckled soon enough. “Your sense of humor is– oh…” She paused, for reasons yet unknown to Noah and Frisk. “Something wrong?” “Oh, nothing. I merely forgot about someone else that we may encounter on our journey.” “Anyone we should be concerned about?” _Please say no._ Toriel paused again, mulling over her answer. “I hope not. He seems friendly enough, but there is only so much you can tell about a person when you know them only by their voice.” Noah slowly nodded in agreement as Toriel grabbed a large hooded gray cloak, spinning it around her shoulders and quickly securing it around her neck. Had she put the hood over her head, she would have looked much like a monk on a pilgrimage. “Well, shall we go now, young ones?” “ Yes please!” “Sounds good to me.”

The exit to the Ruins – the target of Toriel’s hellfire mere minutes before – soon lay before them in all its faded glory. The runic insignia that it bore was a soft ebony in color, a mirror color of the same marking on Toriel’s robes. “So… if you don’t mind me asking, what’s that rune symbol? I keep seeing it in a few places. You have it on your robes, so it likely means something.” Toriel inserted a key into its proper place in the door, the clacking and rasping of aged metal heard as a myriad number of locks opened for the first time in what seemed to be years. “I do not mind at all, Noah. That symbol is the Delta Rune. It is the insignia of the Kingdom of Monsters.” “Nice name.” Noah snarked. “Asgore was… well, he was never the greatest at naming things. Even he would probably admit as much.” “I take it he’s the king?” “Yes, he is.” Toriel pushed open the door; their pathway was another long corridor, with some snow blowing about softly in the air. Toriel froze, her face contorted into suspicion. “I thought I had locked the outer door…” “Well, unless it needs some weatherproofing, someone probably opened it.” “But that is not possible. It was locked.” “It’s a door, isn’t it? Couldn’t someone unlock it from the outside?” “Not when I have the only key.”

Toriel quickened her pace, rushing past a little garden of flowers that grew in the middle of the path. Noah and Frisk walked after her, but suddenly, Frisk tripped and fell face-first into the garden. Noah skidded to a halt beside her. “Hey, I think daisies are for smelling, not for eating, kid. You okay?” “Golly, I sure hope she’s okay! That looked like it could have hurt!” Both Noah and Frisk froze in fear as the voice of the demonic houseplant came from the garden. “Why does it have to be _you_ again… ” The floral hell spawn calling itself “Flowey” was busy bouncing around in the middle of the garden, smiling as if he were truly happy. “Aw… if I had a heart, it’d be breaking right now. _Not!_ ” He started laughing uproariously. Frisk hurriedly scrambled behind Noah as Noah stood up and braced himself for another attack. “What do you want?” “What do _I_ want? Maybe it’s what you’ve taken from _me!_ ” “What are you talking about?”

Flowey stared at Noah and Frisk, a wicked smile on his… face. “You naïve _idiots._ Why are you pulling that trick on me, Noah? What did I ever do to you to deserve you being such a jerk?” “ Says the talking daisy with the weird freakin’ magic… _bullet… thingies…_ ” “You mean those harmless friendliness pellets?” Flowey giggled with all the innocence of a spoiled brat. “Friends don’t shoot friends with magical riot shotguns or whatever the heck that crap was!” “They do here! I mean, you brought the old hag along right after she was about to turn you into roast Noah.” _Wait, Toriel, she’s right around the corner._ Noah could hear what sounded like flames surging ahead of the garden; Toriel was apparently preoccupied with something, but Noah figured a decent half-bluff wouldn’t hurt. “ Well, I’d be watching for a fireball right now if I were you.”

Flowey merely laughed in response, but what spooked Noah was that his face scrambled itself into a mirror image of Toriel; even his voice changed to match Toriel’s. “Really? You think she can stop me? I’ve killed her so many times it’s not even _fun to do it_ anymore.” Noah was perplexed by the statement. “ But she’s alive; how could–” Flowey smacked his now-normal face with a loose vine. “You don’t get it, do you? Golly, you really are an _idiot_. You have the power to reshape the world! _You can play God!_ You can decide the fate of everyone here, and nobody will ever realize it! _But I will!_ I’ll remember everything you two do. When you’re naughty and nice. When you’ve made a mistake or when you want a do-over. _I’ll remember it all!_ ”

 _I think the flower needs some… whatever sedative you’d use for crazy evil flowers._ Flowey continued to bounce around on his stem, smiling like a homicidal jester. “I gotta say though, you two think you’re _so_ clever. It’s still ‘kill or be killed’ in this world. But you don’t like that, do you? You bent the rules of the world and played by your own. You spared the life of a single person. Bravo, _bravo._ ” He giggled with merriment. “Can’t wait to see what happens when you guys die _over and over_ again. I think you’d probably kill someone first, Noah. You’ve got a look in your eyes. Reminds me of someone that I used to–” “ I sure hope you’re being metaphorical about the ‘dying over and over again’ bit because how do you–”

A vine suddenly snaked around Noah’s throat, ready to either strangle or decapitate him. Frisk would have reacted, had Flowey not suspended her in the air by her wrists and ankles. Flowey’s stem elongated and brought him face-to-face with Noah, who was busy clutching at his throat in an instinctual drive to escape. Flowey didn’t say a word immediately, but he merely inspected Noah with all the stoicism of a rancher on butchering day. His smile was far more subdued, less ‘teeth’ and more ‘smirk’… if such could be said about a flower. “You still don’t get it? _Seriously?_ I thought you were some kind of know-it-all who can’t figure out how to shut up, but now I know what you really are. You’re just a big idiot who _won’t shut up!_ ” “You gonna _make_ me, _buttercup?_ ” “Now let’s get something clear here really quick.”

Noah and Frisk were thrown into the earth like ragdolls as Flowey now menacingly towered over the duo. “I am the prince of this world’s future. Don’t worry, my little monarchs… my plan isn’t _regicide_. Not yet anyway. Something about this particular chain of events… it’s becoming more entertaining by the minute. How’s the next chapter of our little story going to unfold this time around? I’m excited to find out myself!” He began to cackle with all the tenderness of metal scraping on metal as both Noah and Frisk climbed to their feet and backed away from the entity. Suddenly, he suppressed his laughter and disappeared into the earth, just as Toriel rounded the corner not a moment later, her arms alight with flame. Sadly, Noah noticed that the flames were cooling down instead of heating up. _Flowey, you’re a lucky son of a gun, you know that?_

Toriel didn’t seem to realize how close she was to meeting the person responsible for Noah’s earlier unconsciousness. She did, however, take note of the state of their clothing, which now bore some scuffs of brown and green. “Noah, did you push her into the flowerbed?” Frisk turned to Noah, a quizzical look on her face which was very easily read. _“ Do we tell her about the flower?”_ “Uh… she tripped?” Both Frisk and Toriel raised an eyebrow, likely in disbelief for both cases. “…I see. Well, in any case, I should probably tell you that there is nothing to worry about. Some vines managed to grow over the door, and they made a gap large enough for snow to blow through.” _Flowey, you shrewd little devil…_ “I assume you burned them?” Toriel smirked. “I wonder what gave _that_ impression…” She laughed as she flicked her fist out, the flames dying with the motion.

“So, nobody broke in then?” Toriel sighed contentedly. “It is safe to assume so. The weather seems to have calmed down as well; our journey should be easier as a result.” “That’s a relief.” _Hopefully that little devil doesn’t follow us… or if it does, I hope it gets lost and ends up in a blizzard…_ Frisk ran towards Toriel, ever content to spend time with the woman she had labeled as her mother only minutes after first meeting her. Even now, Noah still thought it weird that she had done that, but Toriel was indeed quite motherly in her demeanor, if in fact overprotective to a fault. Noah actually found it rather endearing; his own biological mother was actually much the same way. _Except she was shorter, much younger and didn’t have white fur or magical fists of fire… would someone mind telling me if this is real life or if this is all just a fantasy…_

Noah walked calmly behind, hands buried in his windbreaker. While he enjoyed cold weather, frostbite was something that he’d experienced all too often when he was younger and more reckless. As he aged though, he’d become slightly more attuned to the cold, having spent a bit of his life in colder environments. _Time sure changes everything, doesn’t it? Oh, you have no idea._ Noah froze in terror as he heard the same voice from when he was unconscious. _Please tell me I’m just hearing things… Why, yes, yes you are._ Noah spun around as he felt that whisper in his ear. _Who’s there? I am._ Noah felt a great chill come over him as he felt the same sensation as before suddenly echo in his skull. _Huh. So just_ hearing _my voice is enough to get the same kind of tortured response now. Guess Pavlov was right after all: you_ can _teach an old dog new tricks._

The voice laughed raucously, managing to combine a child’s mirth and a banshee’s scream in the same action. Toriel and Frisk didn’t seem to hear the laugh though, which only gave Noah more questions than answers. _Who are you? How–_ _Tsk, tsk, tsk…_ But before Noah could continue, the same sensation of pain as before began to subtly pulse; Noah grimaced as his head swam in white noise. _Do you really think that I should feel obliged to answer your questions? Now, now, I’m not going to incapacitate you, because that would draw attention to you and thus to me. But I do not plan on letting you think that you’re the one in control here._ The pain lingered on as Noah mechanically continued down the hallway; Toriel and Frisk walked ahead of him, unknowing of his plight.

 _Now if you really must know, I’m only in your head right now; you’re the only one who can presently hear me. But let me ask you this. What is today’s date? Year, month, date. I’m curious. It should be June 4th, 2118._ The voice hummed in intrigue, sounding vaguely feminine in tone. _Time has always been a_ fickle _machination of the mind for me._ _The way you word that… you make it sound… like… “Like I’m _dead? _”_ A soft chuckle rang about his mind. _Somedays, I do wonder. What would death be like? Then again, I should know; it’s been 106 years._ _What do you mean by–_ “Now, I hope the door still works.”

Toriel’s voice brought Noah out of his trance as he nearly walked right into Toriel. The door that now stood before them did indeed have a decently sized gap above it where Flowey had likely pried the assembly apart. Charred stubble and blackened stone marked where Toriel had performed her handiwork; it brought a smile to Noah’s face, in a hope that Flowey was fully experiencing the flames. Toriel pushed a different key into the door, a sharp clack indicating that the door’s lock was still functional. Frisk looked back at Noah, an energetic smile beaming on her face; Noah smiled back, hoping that Frisk wouldn’t see through the façade of mental pain he was feeling. But he didn’t have to worry long, as Frisk became more curious about the sudden gust of frigid air and snow that greeted the trio.

Noah put his hood up as the snow blew into the group’s faces. When Toriel spoke of the cold, Noah didn’t think to remember that she had meant the wind. A family friend had always told him that it was usually the wind that would kill you, almost never the temperature itself. Luckily though, the gust seemed only to be the result of some pressurization, for it soon subsided and gave way to a deathly silence. As Noah stepped outside, the hard-packed gravel gave way to several inches of virgin snow, and the walls of the Ruins were left behind and replaced with a thick mass of tall, slender trees.

They were in a clearing that seemed to extend for a while, the only entity of note being a snow-covered evergreen shrub next to the door. Frisk ran outside, giddy to be in a winter-trapped glade and giggling all the while. “I don’t suppose you’ve got an off switch, do you, kid? You’re worse than a dog!” “No, I’m not!” “Well, you’re certainly more so than _my friend’s dog_ ever was! ” Frisk giggled ever more, obviously amused by Noah’s teasing banter; strangely, even that bit of dialogue felt familiar to Noah. _Well, it’s as I said, isn’t it? ‘This isn’t the first time that you’ve seen this.’ What do you even _mean _by that?_ The ghost plaguing his mind did not respond, merely choosing to embrace silence for the moment.

Toriel chuckled as she stood next to Noah. “I would disagree, but then again, you probably know more than I do, since you were on the Surface just yesterday.” “Were you there once?” Toriel sighed, a blend of calm resignation and sorrow on her face. “A long time ago, yes.” Noah didn’t press the question. _I could probably guess what’s on her mind; you curious to know what she’s thinking? I’d like to think I’m intuitive enough to _not _ask what seems to be a sensitive subject._ Fine, _be that way._ Another burst of laughter from the ever-ecstatic Frisk pulled Noah’s attention as well as Toriel’s; Frisk was now lying supine on the ground, arms and legs fanning out to make a snow angel. Toriel chuckled, as Noah merely smirked in amusement. _Well, you’re only young once._ _Heh, good joke. Got any more? That wasn’t supposed to be a joke. I thought it was funny. You know, you’ve got an… _interesting _sense of humor._ _ I prefer to think of it as one refined by time eternal. Nutcase. Well, by your definition, sure, we’ll go with that._

Noah’s attention was quickly drawn by a glint that emanated from the shrub next to the door; he stepped closer, curious as to the source. His hands brushed away clumps of snow and thin branches of green until he was rewarded for his efforts with a view of a small metallic box aiming a glass lens at the door. _A surveillance camera? I guess I should have expected that. You don’t say, Captain Obvious. Do you have an off switch yourself? Nope. _The voice giggled softly in the mental distance as Noah batted the camera to his left, knocking its viewpoint towards the walls of the Ruins. A playful bout of laughter from Frisk and a surprised yelp from Toriel quickly got his attention as he left the camera be.

The sight of Frisk having tackled Toriel into the snow was a rather humorous sight, even if Noah felt a slight need to prudishly reprimand their combined silliness. “You two okay there?” Frisk quickly clambered off Toriel, laughing all the while; Toriel stood up, chuckling as she dusted herself off. “I am fine. Although I was not expecting an ambush from you, small one.” Noah snickered and shook his head in vexation. “Kid… you’re gonna be the death of me, you know that?” Frisk merely stuck her tongue out at Noah, amused by his reaction. “Well, probably should be going then. You know which way to go then, Toriel?” “Of course. It has been a while though, but I should still remember the path.” _“Been a while”…_ _I’m gonna remember you said that. You’ll sure try. Just like you’re _trying _to get on my nerves?_ _ Technically, I’m kind of _in _them right now._ _ …how– Don’t ask. Just don’t. I’ve been doing this for eons, and I still don’t recall just how this deal works. Right…_

The trio began to hike along the path through the forest, with Toriel walking and Frisk skipping. Noah took up the rear of their merry little band, mostly to take in the surroundings. The trees themselves were like California redwoods in dimensions and general appearance: most were easily two hundred feet in height and twenty in diameter. Aged with decades of time, they were seemingly locked in winter; their branches, though most were lofted high, were still weighted with green leaves, interwoven with heavy blankets of snow. Occasional motes of white would fall from above in wind-swept dances and land without a whisper among their brethren. Such an idyllic landscape was rather calming, if indeed ominous; beyond the path, the forest lay dark as almost all light was kept out. _My kind of environs. Would you cool it with the freaky-deaky Dracula wannabe crap? I’d say when pigs fly, but… Let me guess, there’s flying pig monsters here as well? No, but I had you going, didn’t I?_ The voice laughed as Noah merely sulked.

“It is strange that this is just lying in the middle of the path here.” Toriel’s voice brought Noah back to reality, the source of the comment being a massive branch – or even the top part of a tree – that appeared to have fallen from above. It wasn’t blocking the path, but it was still there, a blemish in the snow that stood out on the path. Frisk hopped over it a few times, not quite caring about why it was there except that it made for a good jumping challenge; Toriel went around the branch, inspecting it with curiosity, but not engaged enough to attempt anything with it. Noah, on the other hand, attempted to pick it up and move it off to the side, but the branch was too massive for him to move from its resting place, let alone lift it off the ground.

 _Yeah, I’d need a hacksaw before I could start to move the thing away. Whatever._ He resumed walking behind Toriel and Frisk, but it was only seconds later before sharp crunching and a loud crack reverberated throughout the forest immediately behind them. “ _What the?_ ” Noah served to echo a shared sentiment among the trio, as all eyes darted to where the sound had originated. The branch had been split and crushed as if a giant had crushed it between his fingers. Even Toriel was visibly surprised at the damage that had been dealt to the branch, while Frisk went wide-eyed with shock. “O… kay… so, either that was some kind of booby trap or we’re not alone out here.”

Toriel was still collecting herself, stunned by the amount of force that would have been necessary for such an act. “It… it does appear that way.” “Do we keep going then?” Toriel paused briefly in thought. “We may as well.” They began walking once again, all three keeping close together. A slight gust of wind started to blow, but it had a deep droning buzz to it as if the forest wasn’t already ominous enough. “Either of you hear that?” Toriel looked over her shoulder at Noah. “What?” “That droning; is that the wind?” Toriel didn’t respond for a moment as she strained to hear whatever Noah was hearing. “I am afraid that I cannot hear what you are hearing. Could you describe it more?”

“Well, it’s a deep droning, but it sounds really… ‘hollow’. Kinda like blowing over the mouth of a glass jar. Ya know what I’m talking about?” Toriel nodded slowly. “Perhaps I am older than I realized if you are hearing things that I cannot.” “You’re probably right. Maybe I am just _hearing things,_ and I’m going _crazy_ because of it. ” Toriel chuckled softly at his self-depreciating quip, not quite noticing the emphasis he had strategically planted. A brief but sharp headache informed Noah that the voice in his head had fully understood just what he was trying to do. _Okay, I get it. No hinting about you. See that you _do. _I really don’t want to have to end this so early._

As they resumed walking, a soft crunching of snow could be heard from their steps. Frisk’s steps were light and quiet, as befit her weight. Toriel left large prints wherever she walked in the snow, but she was almost as quiet as Frisk. Noah’s hiking boots, on the other hand, were not meant to be quiet in the snow, and the deep crunch of snow compressing underneath his boots was the loudest noise that their group made. Noah paused for a second, curious to know how quiet they otherwise were. But there was another pair of footfalls behind him, not as weighty as his but still bearing their own gravitas.

Noah spun around quickly, getting a brief glimpse of their pursuer; a navy blue hoodie with a zipper, white undershirt and dark gym shorts cocooned the individual, not even revealing their face. “ _Hey!_ You there!” The subject in question suddenly disappeared from sight as if he were a hologram. A pair of cobalt orbs burned through where the figure had stood, then impacted a mound of snow, vaporizing it instantly. Toriel moved swiftly to Noah’s side and stopped, her arms now ablaze with the same bright hues as the orbs. “Did you see who it was?” “Only saw their clothes. Fella was wearing shorts, T-shirt, and a hoodie.” Toriel glared at the open air where the person was standing; Noah was suddenly curious to know if she could set the air ablaze with merely her gaze. _That’d be cool… but mostly terrifying._ Frisk walked up to Toriel, tugging on her cloak to draw her attention for some reason.

Suddenly, Noah felt sharp pinpricks on the back of his neck. _I’d get those out now if I were you._ _Wait, what?_ He quickly reached for the back of his neck, but not before the world suddenly exploded into darkness as what were, in fact, electrode probes delivered their dose of paralysis and pain to him. Noah felt as if someone was now pulling him by a chain as all he now heard his own incomprehensible gibbering and Frisk calling out his name after him. A soft tutting was heard from his intangible companion. _You hesitated. Good job. Now don’t worry; I’m not gonna torment you anymore… for a bit anyway._ The voice chuckled as Noah passed out.

* * *

“ _Noah!_ ” Frisk nearly screamed as a loud crackling sound reverberated throughout the forest; Noah was being propelled by what looked like arcs of indigo lightning towards an opening in the walls of the wood, convulsing violently all the while. Toriel summoned a broad stream of vermillion embers towards where Noah was being pulled, but only an unfortunate cluster of trees was hit by the flames. Noah’s flailing body was quickly dragged through the residual flames, not a single ember latching onto his clothing as he disappeared into the glade. “ _Let him go!_ ” Frisk was about to run after Noah in a vain attempt to try and rescue him, but Toriel clutched onto her shoulders, the flames on her arms now glowing a verdant emerald. “No, my child! _Stop!_ ” “Lemme go; they’ve got him!” “And I am _not_ going to lose you as well!” “ _Noah!_ ”

Frisk kept trying to shake off Toriel’s grip, but she was far too strong for Frisk. “Stop this!” “But they’ve got him!” “Stop this, my child! Stop and _listen to me!_ ” Frisk went silent as Toriel stared pleadingly at her; the slight tears in Toriel’s eyes indicated that even she felt wounded by Noah’s abduction. “I do not know the forest aside from this path; even if we tried, whoever that was likely knows the forest far better than we do.” “But we can still try, can’t we?” Toriel didn’t immediately chide Frisk’s stubbornness; after all, Frisk was right in saying that they could try. “Child, if you were captured as well, would you know how to escape?” Frisk was unsure of how to respond. Toriel likewise had a point: how would Frisk fight back? She could punch, claw, kick, and bite, but given how instantly Noah had been subdued… it was probably best not to think about it. 

But there was another question that suddenly burned its way to the forefront of Frisk’s mind. “Why did they take just him?” She stared back at Toriel, curiosity and sorrow mixing in her expression. Toriel stared at the snow between them, pondering an answer. “I do not know. But if that was the Royal Guard, then Asgore’s plan may soon be completed.” Toriel sighed deeply and placed her fists on the ground, closing her eyes in recollection… or sorrow. Her voice was muted and distant as the flames on her arms sputtered and vanished. “I wish I could have saved him. I wish I could turn back time and stop this before it happened. Before any of this happened. Why does this keep happening to me? All my children… why does this happen?” A soft breeze of snow-laced air wafted past Frisk and Toriel as they remained kneeling on the icy ground, huddled in shock.

“y’know, i thought i recognized that voice. you’re from the other side of the door, right?” Both Frisk and Toriel were caught off guard by the voice that spoke up right behind Toriel. Frisk was the first to glimpse the owner of the voice as she stood up, but it was not the image she was expecting. It belonged to a skeleton wearing a blue zip-up hoodie, white T-shirt and black shorts with gray stripes; his hands were buried in the pockets of his hoodie while his feet were clad in… fluffy pink slippers of all things. But the most interesting thing about this person was his head… or rather his skull; he bore a gigantic smile that seemed permanent, and his eye sockets were barren save for a pair of white lights, shining like stars. The way that his mouth moved while he spoke was fairly jarring as well; his mouth moved, but his smile remained as if his teeth were glued shut. His expression also seemed to shift the features of his skull as if it were made of skin.

While Frisk looked on in curiosity, Toriel was experiencing something altogether different. Even though the skeleton had said that they had spoken before, Toriel’s face did not seem to show any such recollection of his voice. Or perhaps, not a positive recollection, as orange and blue hues dyed the snow. “hey, uh, i think your arms are on fire, lady.” “Would you like to know why that is?” Frisk noted a distinct lack of the ‘nice mother’ tone that Toriel normally used in the past; this was akin to the ‘angry mama bear’ tone that Frisk knew too well. “maybe you play baseball? i mean, it looks like your fastball’s a real ‘scorcher’.” Both Frisk and Toriel paused in confusion, the pun having hit its mark but still processing through their emotions. Frisk began to snicker while Toriel’s face slowly lit up with confused amusement. “so, i take it i showed up at a bad time. must have been a big ‘shock’, i’d imagine.” Frisk halted her awkward revelry immediately. _Did he take Noah?_ Toriel apparently thought similar, for a grim frown formed on her face as she looked at the skeleton with renewed suspicion.

For his part, the skeleton seemed to notice that this particular brand of humor was not presently welcome. “too soon?” “Yep.” Frisk usually wasn’t so terse, but given the circumstances, she couldn’t help it. “sorry, i guess all this excitement got me fully charged.” Toriel choked back a snicker as the pun struck its mark. “now, if you’re thinking i don’t remember that promise, then prepare to be stunned.” _Promise?_ “ What promise?” Toriel’s eyes went wide, both as she acknowledged the pun and as she suddenly remembered whatever it was that the skeleton was talking about. “You remembered?” “‘watch over them, and protect them, will you not?’” The skeleton’s voice mimicked Toriel’s own voice to a degree. “don’t worry; not only am i too lazy to set up such an electrifying trap, but i hate to break a promise.” Frisk was too interested in Toriel’s secret-hoarding to recognize that last pun that the skeleton had made. Toriel turned to Frisk, an awkward smile on her visage. “i take it you hadn’t mentioned it to your little friend? welp, guess she knows now.”

The skeleton shrugged in indifference then quickly changed the topic. “s’pose i should introduce myself then. the name’s sans. sans the skeleton.” He offered his hand from his pockets, which was buried in a white woolen mitten. Frisk returned the handshake, only to be greeted by the sound of a whoopee cushion releasing its payload. Sans somehow smiled even more as Frisk blinked in surprise then started to snicker. “gotcha, didn’t i? ah, the old ‘whoopee cushion in the hand’ trick. that never gets old.” He turned to Toriel, slinging the expired prank into the forest and offering the same hand. Toriel relented after a brief moment of hesitation, her own hand dwarfing Sans’ mitten by comparison, but curiously enough, another whoopee cushion aired its grievances. “whoops, i could have sworn that i only had the one there.” Frisk was amused by the mock surprise in Sans’ tone and the “casual embarrassment” with which he flung the second one. Toriel didn’t know how to react, her face split between mock condescension and amusement.

Sans returned his hands to his pockets, obviously not wishing to keep them out in the open. “so, what’s your name then?” “I am Toriel. It is nice to finally meet you in person, Sans.” “likewise. so, where were you guys headed then?” Toriel gently rested her hand on Frisk’s shoulder. “I was hoping to bring the two of them back to where they came from.” “the surface?” Frisk nodded. “wish i knew a shortcut to get there, but sadly, i don’t. means going through the underground. though if anything, means more adventure for you.” “Could you come with us?” Sans stared, the expression on his ever-smiling face nearly mirroring Noah’s customary smirk, were it not for a quick wink in his eye as he spoke. “well, i s’pose i could let’cha drag me away. i’m on my fifth break anyway.”

He took a few steps forward along their path, then stopped dead in his tracks. “heh, i just had an idea. i think my brother Papyrus is this way. past the… gate… thingy he built over here. c’mere, wouldja?” He pointed forward toward where there was, indeed, a gate ahead of the group… if it could, in fact, be called a “gate”. It was more of an archway spanning across the gaping chasm that opened up in the ground there, not even attempting to block off the wooden walkway that bridged the gap. Frisk followed Sans across, briefly stopping to peer into the abysmal depths; Toriel’s firm grip kept her from leaning too far in and losing her balance.

“You would not happen to know where Noah was taken, would you?” Sans turned around to face Toriel and shrugged, walking backwards all the while. “yes and no. i’m not a mind-reader but the fella who took your friend… well, he’s a little bit rattled if you ask me.” “How so?” “used to be part of the canine unit out here. a lone wolf compared to those guys, but lately, he’s been off the leash for the past few weeks.” “Is he a criminal?” Sans shook his head and hands feverishly in denial. “no, no, no! heh, nothing like that! he just went crazy for whatever reason; kept repeating the same thing over and over – and lemme paraphrase here for the kid’s sake – ‘those gosh dang kids keep screwing with the timeline.’” Frisk suddenly clutched her head, an acute sensation of dizziness taking hold, as if she had stood up too quickly; she thought she heard a whisper echoing through the forest, but thought nothing further of it. “you okay there, kiddo?”

Frisk nodded softly, choosing to avoid eye contact by staring at the ground. “I’m good.” “Are headaches very common on the Surface? Noah seemed to have the same symptoms.” Frisk shook her head. “I dunno.” Sans shrugged, his hands briefly vacating his pockets and returning to them just as quickly. “well, don’t get too shaken up. it’s a bit of a walk to the barrier.” They resumed walking, now coming up to a small glade in the forest pathway. Sans paused his movement once again. “hey, can you two do me a favor and hide behind those lamps?” The glade that they now found themselves in was fairly sizeable compared to the opening in front of the Ruins; the tall trees gave way to shorter spruce trees, as well as a small snow-covered hut which sat at the far end of the glade. The pair of lamps in question were rather oddly shaped from their point of view, but when Frisk moved in front of the smaller of the two, she noted that it fit her silhouette exactly. If she wanted to evade detection from anyone coming towards them, standing behind this would work; it was eerie how conveniently shaped the lamps were.

Toriel hesitated briefly, but no sooner than Toriel had finally chosen to move into place, an extraordinarily loud voice burst into the clearing. “SANS!” “sup, bro?” The skeleton that was Sans’ brother was a polar opposite in many regards: he was tall and lanky, clad in a bleach-white armor suit with rich crimson boots, gauntlets, and a well-worn mantle cloak. While Sans’ tone and appearance befit that of a laid-back comedian with a pronounced New York accent and an easy-going personality, Papyrus, on the other hand, was nothing of the sort, being far more florid and bombastic in both voice and mannerisms. “YOU KNOW WHAT’S ‘SUP’, BROTHER! IT’S BEEN NINE DAYS AND YOU STILL HAVEN’T RECALIBRATED. YOUR. PUZZLES! YOU JUST HANG AROUND OUTSIDE YOUR STATION! WHAT ARE YOU EVEN DOING?!?” “staring at these lamps. they’re really cool. do you wanna look?” Frisk nearly giggled, both because she was finding Sans to be a bit of a tease and because she saw Toriel staring at Sans. _I think she didn’t like that at all._

However, Papyrus didn’t seem to notice as he forcefully stomped the ground; had he been a teakettle, steam would have been visibly boiling by now. “NO! I DON’T HAVE TIME FOR THAT! WHAT IF A HUMAN COMES THROUGH HERE?!? I WANT TO BE READY! I WANT TO BE THE ONE; I MUST BE THE ONE! I WILL CAPTURE A HUMAN! THEN, I…” He struck a pose, his cape suddenly bursting aflutter from an unheard and unseen wind. “THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL GET ALL THE THINGS I UTTERLY DESERVE! RESPECT, RECOGNITION, I WILL FINALLY BE ABLE TO JOIN THE ROYAL GUARD! PEOPLE WILL ASK… TO… BE MY… ‘FRIEND’? I WILL BATHE IN A SHOWER OF KISSES EVERY MORNING.”

Sans said nothing, merely clasping his chin and humming in thought. “maybe these lamps will help you.” Frisk stifled what might have been a loud laugh while Toriel continued to presumably fume at Sans. Papyrus continued to ignore the lamps, yet again barraging the ground with his foot. “SANS! YOU ARE NOT HELPING! YOU LAZYBONES! ALL YOU DO IS SIT AROUND AND BOONDOGGLE! YOU GET LAZIER AND LAZIER EVERY DAY!” “hey, take it easy. i’ve gotten a ton of work done.” Frisk suddenly realized what was to come and started snickering. “a skele-ton.” He winked as suddenly, the sound of a comedy rim shot was heard coming from the hut; Papyrus ceased all movement as he slowly turned to face his brother, annoyance clearly present in both his expression and his now-even-louder voice.

“SANS!” “come on; you’re smiling.” “I AM AND I HATE IT!” Papyrus sighed heavily. “WHY DOES SOMEONE AS GREAT AS ME HAVE TO DO SO MUCH… JUST TO GET SOME RECOGNITION…” “wow, sounds like you’re really working yourself–“ _He’s gonna say it._ “ down to the bone.” _He said it._ Frisk began sniggering heavily but quietly as another drum sting was heard; Sans shrugged in response to an imaginary crowd off to his right while Papyrus merely groaned in response. “ I WILL ATTEND TO MY PUZZLES; AS FOR YOUR WORK? PUT A LITTLE MORE ‘BACKBONE’ INTO IT! NYEH HEH HEH!” Papyrus continued to laugh as he walked away.

It took mere moments for Frisk to notice what Papyrus had said, and she nearly fell over laughing. “okay, you can come out now.” Frisk, red-faced from her suppressed laughter was the first to leave cover, followed by Toriel soon afterward, who was attempting to stifle both anger and amusement. Sans seemed to notice Toriel’s split reaction. “hey, don’t worry about him, toriel. he’s not dangerous, even if he tries to be.” “I assume that he finds those puns quite ‘rattling’, doesn’t he?” Everyone present began chuckling at Toriel’s barebones pun. “hey, that was pretty good. although i hope you don’t have a bone to pick with me about earlier.”

Frisk grinned while Toriel began laughing almost immediately; it was safe to assume that Sans’ question was no longer valid. “So, that is your brother then. He certainly is as you described him.” “he’s pretty cool, amirite?” Toriel nodded, but Frisk suddenly felt a sharp pain in her temples, as if someone was roughly jabbing her in the head. Toriel and Sans both took notice, but their voices became muffled and faded into a ringing sound as Frisk noted another voice speaking to her. The voice was familiar, too familiar for comfort, yet Frisk couldn’t figure out why that was.

**_ Greetings, Frisk. Do you miss me yet,  _ partner? **

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... that was quite a... shock... wasn't it?
> 
> I'm sorry; that pun was just right there, begging for a spark. Whatever parts of my brain are involved with humor really get 'amp'-ed when I start charging them up.
> 
> ...okay, I'm throwing the switch after this.
> 
> ...I'll have 6 up later this week. Hopefully. G'nite 'n g'bye! [Stereotypical like/comment/sub plug goes here]


	6. Interlude - Ripples in the Lake

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh, good; you're still with me. Just like the chapter title says, this is an interlude, so it'll be shorter than most chapters, plus it's set in the chronological past of this story, just like the prelude chapter. I'll be honest, but I'm starting to wonder if the average length of my chapters is scaring away folks who just want a quick read and want to get back to... whatever else they want to do. (Although if you've come this far, _you probably either don't care about the length that much or you don't even care to begin with._ )
> 
> Chapter 7 is still being polished up, 8 and 9 are still on the draft board, and 10-14 are still just concepts right now. I'll probably kick 7 out to you guys sometime beginning August, then I'll be taking a bit of time to draft a lot more of these next chapters. Probably best that I do.
> 
> Anyway, enough about that; please enjoy this interlude!  
> (But, I mean, how couldn't you? It's got a certain 'kid' in it that- okay, I'm done.)
> 
> * * *

“Hey, Chara, wait up!” Footsteps echoed in the cavern as Asriel pursued his sister. The young monster prince thoroughly enjoyed playing hide and seek as well as tag, but this time was apparently different, for he had never seen Chara in a full-on sprint such as this before. Chara called out over her shoulder, “What? Can’t you keep up, fuzzball?” Her most recent nickname for him was “more fraternal mockery than derision” as she had so stated in the past, though Asriel couldn’t think of how it was even “derisive” in the first place.

The two children were rampaging raucously towards the saturated wetlands within the Underground, the area more formally known as Waterfall. Not many dared to venture beyond the paths that were oft patrolled by royal guardsmen, but Chara and Asriel, being stereotypically adventurous children, were among the ranks of those few who would jump off the beaten path. As they ran past great cascading waterfalls, thick mats of marsh grass and narrow sand and dirt berms, locals would probably wonder why they would carelessly explore the area. “Mom’s not gonna like it if we get mud on us!” “Always thinking about the consequences, aren’t you?”

Chara skirted a corner, disappearing from Asriel’s sight. “Well, yeah! But we ought to, shouldn’t we?” He started to round the same corner, only to be greeted with a clump of mud flying towards his face. Or rather, where his face would have been, had he not slid underneath the cheap shot. “ _Hey!_ Chara!” “ At least I didn’t _hit_ you! ” Chara said with a singsong tone and a great smirk on her face; she started laughing as Asriel briefly pouted. “Oh, come on, that would have been funny!” “Yeah, _right._ ” Chara turned around, walking at a much calmer pace; Asriel, on the other hand, decided to play a little trick on her. He only knew a basic amount of fire magic, but it would be enough for his current purposes.

A small mote of red flame suddenly lanced the pool of water to Chara’s right, vaporizing it into a little explosion of steam. It wasn’t harmful, but it certainly spooked Chara, who jumped out of the way, landing face first in a patch of mud. Asriel burst into laughter, not expecting his prank to play out quite the way it did. His laughter only redoubled when Chara pulled her face from the mire, simultaneously annoyed with the muck on her face and amused by Asriel’s prank. “ Really?” Asriel shook his head, not out of denial, but because he was too busy laughing to verbally respond. Chara merely scooped some water from a nearby rivulet, wiping off what she could from her face.

Asriel managed to pull himself out of his laughter, if only briefly. “I’m sorry, Chara, I–” “Don’t say it. It’s mud, it washed off, nothing happened. Besides, I threw that clump of mud at you earlier.” Asriel chuckled a little, the mirth of the situation finally wearing away. “Right. So, why are we out here again? Are we going to the gravel pit again?” “You remember that lake near Snowdin?” “With the mist and the rainbows? I love that place!” “Hey, what’s that over there?” Chara gestured behind and off to Asriel’s left, surprise on her face. “What? What is it?” The sound of footsteps began to echo as Chara started running again. “Hey! You tricked me again! Slow down, Chara!” Chara laughed as Asriel started to chase after her again.

Gaily did the sound of children’s merriment echo across the water in the area. For some reason that the royal scientists could not understand, something in the water seemed to glow brightly enough that it lit its surroundings fairly well. It was a convenience that let monsters forgo lanterns or other portable light sources in this area, something which was well-received by many travelers. Chara stopped aside the shoreline of a large misty lake, soon sitting on a thick sandbar that bordered the cerulean waters; Asriel sat aside her and both children settled down, if only for a brief moment. “Hey, Asriel?” “Yeah, Chara?” “…never mind.” “C’mon, Chara, if you’re gonna say something, say something!” “Well, I forgot what I was going to say. Is that better?” “ _Bah._ You’re just being goofy, you know that?” Asriel chuckled, but Chara didn’t, looking too melancholic to respond. “Hey, Chara. You okay?” Chara nodded slowly, her only response to the prince.

“ _Chara…_ what if I said I brought some chocolate along? Would that make you feel better?” She perked at the mere mention of chocolate. “ Where did you get that? I thought Mom said that–” “She said there wasn’t any in the _fridge,_ Chara.” Asriel winked as he handed her a bar wrapped in silver and brown foil. “She knows you’ve been hoarding them; you’re not _that_ sneaky. I mean, that idea of yours trying to sneak into the kitchen with that cardboard box? What were you thinking?” Asriel started laughing as Chara blushed, her naturally rosy cheeks now inflaming with embarrassment. “ Well, it worked in a video game.” “Well, there’s your problem!” Asriel laughed all the more, even as Chara violently ripped open the candy bar wrapper and wolfed down the treat.

Suddenly, a large crack sounded in the air high off to their left; it sounded much like a frozen lake shattering. Both children turned, Asriel screaming in alarm and Chara posturing in a mixture of fear and anticipation. “ _What the hell was that?_ ” “ _Chara!_ ” “What? Mom said ‘hell’ once too!” “Doesn’t mean _you_ should!” A loud ruckus of rock and water served to suppress their bickering, as the source became evident: a decently-sized stalactite had fallen into the lake, displacing a large volume of mist and water. The resulting wave broke on an interior dike rather flatly, creating a heavy, lingering mist in that area. Chara stood up, her posture full of aplomb. “ Let’s check it out.” “But what if another… ‘thingy’ falls?” His vocabulary temporarily failed him; he knew it was either stalactites or stalagmites, but the names always confused him. “Don’t tell me you’re scared.” “No, I’m not. But what if–” “Hey, we’ll be fine. Don’t worry so much; I mean, come on: you’re _Asriel Dreemurr!_ You’re not a little kid anymore, are you? ” Asriel didn’t respond; Chara wasn’t technically wrong, but he still felt very impotent versus a falling stalactite that was easily twenty times his size.

The duo made their way to the point of impact, Asriel noting that the dike was fortunately untouched by the fallen rock. Chara calmly moved closer to the gigantic stone spike. “Hey, Chara, you’d better not be thinking of trying to jump onto that rock.” “ _What? Me?_ ” Chara’s voice dripped with playful mockery, but Asriel recognized the tone as a friendly dismissal of his advice. She leaped onto the rock, nary a stumble as her boots gained purchase on the slick stone. “I wasn’t thinking of _trying_ , silly.” “You and your… your…” “‘Semantics.’” “That. Thanks, Chara.” By way of acknowledgment, Chara merely stuck out her tongue at him; Asriel rolled his eyes in amusement as Chara began inspecting the spire.

“So, what made this thing fall then? Got any guesses?” Asriel shrugged. “Earthquake? Something on the Surface?” “Could something get through the Barrier like that?” “Well, _you_ did.” “ … _touché._ ” Chara slowly crept to the end where the spike had been connected to the ceiling, getting on her hands and knees to maintain her precarious position; Asriel moved around the spike using the dikes to get a better view for himself. “Hey, does this look like it’s too smooth to be a rock breaking off naturally? It looks like someone–”

“ _Hey!_ ” Asriel and Chara spun around in shock, having been completely surprised by the entrance of an unknown person, clad in a lightweight hooded cloak and plate mail. “What are you kids doing out here‽ This be no place fer–” The newcomer paused, suddenly kneeling in reverence. “Prince Asriel, Prin–” “ _Don’t. Don’t call me ‘princess’._ ” “Oh, goodness, forgive me. You would think I’d learn by now not to call you that, lass, but I guess I must be going senile in me old age.” “You’re not that old, are you?” A hearty laugh emanated from under the hood and visor of the guardsman, followed by a serious bout of coughing. “Really now, young prince; I served in _the War!_ ” “That was a long time ago though; I thought…” Yet another burst of laughter suddenly interrupted Chara’s line of thought. “Well, lass, you’re not wrong in saying it was a long time ago, but it’s not like every one of us gone an’ kicked the bucket, y’know! Ya got the King ‘n Queen themselves, you ‘ad the ‘ammer of Justice ‘imself, lots of civvies, and a couple o’ soldiers, includin’ meself.”

“Do you have a cool name too? Like the ‘Hammer of Justice’?” It seemed every comment from the duo cued another round of laughter from the guardsman. “Ohohoho, no! Oh, goodness, no. They're not in the ‘abit of givin’ us folk in the back lines of the war front too many titles. See, I was an archer back then; ain’t smart to be plying our trade on the front like infantry or cavalry. ‘Sides, the thought of me having a title? Bah. I’m an archer. I just shoot a bunch’a arrows at things fer a living.” “Could we see?” Asriel’s voice was extraordinarily giddy. “Oh, why not? You young’uns probably won’t be seein’ something like this li’l party trick for a _long_ while anyhow.”

As proof of his expertise, he coolly brought forth an arc of white crackling lightning from the air itself, forming it into a simple recurve bow. Nocking a thick bolt to the gossamer drawstring, the guard steadied his breath, readied his aim, and shot forth a ballistic lance of pure electricity. The missile struck a boulder on the other side of the lake next to the forest, detonating it into fine shards of gravel and creating a heavy spray of water mist in the area. Residual lightning crackled in the air in an expanding sphere, dissipating as rapidly as it formed. The mist in the area suddenly started to glow with a rainbow of hues, from verdant green to brilliant ultramarine to warm saffron, before the colors faded back into a more natural aquamarine.

Asriel had been tensed the entire time in anticipation of the exhibition, as most magic use in the kingdom was reserved for more mundane activities. This, on the other hand... “ _That. Was. Awesome!_ ” Asriel began excitedly bouncing from the spectacular display, while Chara softly applauded. For his part, the guardsman seemed proud of his well-honed skills and talents, bowing thankfully towards the duo as his bow vaporized back into the air. “You’re pretty good; still keeping in practice, I see.” “Yes indeed I ‘ave been, lass; thank you. You’re standin’ on one a’ me targets, in fact.” Chara’s smirk suddenly turned into surprise and shock, even as Asriel became far more captivated by the figure afore him. “Wait, did you do this?”

Boisterous laughter was the response to Asriel’s question, as seemed to be the pattern whenever he was asked a question. “Yessir, I did indeed, young prince! Had that got any bigger, might ‘ave broke the dike here if it fell; and the last thing we needs ‘ere’s a flood. Certainly not with you young’uns skippin’ about ‘ere so far from safety.” Asriel was keen enough to know that the last statement was laced with a wink behind the guard’s visor; he could tell from both the particular wording and the tone of his voice. “Well, it’s not like we’re jumping into danger, are we?” There was a pause in dialogue, long enough that Asriel took the time to skip a stone on the lake’s surface while waiting. “S’pose you ‘ave a point there, lass. Guess I’m thinkin’ about me youngest laddie when I see you young’uns scamperin’ around like this.” “How old is he?” There was another pause. “Well, he’d be 13 in a few weeks.”

There was no sorrow in his tone, but it was flat and dull, far unlike his earlier drawl. It wasn’t seemingly as painful for the guard as it was for Asriel, but Asriel still felt rather sheepish as a result, while Chara gave a low whistle. “Sorry, I–” The guard shushed him gently, kneeling in front of Asriel and placing a gauntleted hand on his shoulder. “Ya didn’t know, young prince. Not many do.” The guard turned to face Chara. “Lass, I can see you’re obviously capable of gettin’ up there, but could you please do an old man a kindness and git down ‘fore ya git ‘urt?” “Oh, _fine…_ I'll get down. ”

Chara quickly scrambled down the face of the rock, her expertise in free climbing showing off fairly well. “Ah, I do thank ye, lass. Well, I’ll be taking my leave then. Probably shouldn’t be scrapin’ the ceiling whilst you young’uns are o’er ‘ere.” Chuckling as he ended his dialogue, the guard stood up and turned to walk away along the dike. “Thank you, sir. I don’t think we caught your name though.” The guard made an about face and bowed in a smooth singular motion. “Guardsman Buck, at yer service, mi’lord. I do hope we speak again soon. G’day, sir, lass.” After a quick salute, he returned to his previous animation, slowly walking away along the berm towards the forest at the other end of the lake.

Both Asriel and Chara briefly watched the old guardsman stroll off before turning to face each other. “He’s pretty cool, isn’t he?” “He called that a _party trick._ ” “Yeah? It’s still cool though.” “Asriel, do you know what that _even means?_ ” There was a brief pause as Asriel quickly came to a conclusion. “You mean that wasn’t even his _best?_ ” “ _Bingo._ ” Asriel smiled brightly, ecstatic and enthused by the thought that this was only an iota of Buck’s capabilities. “Do you think he can do even more than _that‽_ ” “He’s almost as old as _Mom and Dad are!_ ” “Yeah, but Mom and Dad still could do stuff like that in their _sleep!_ ” “Bah. You’re not old enough to know about that stuff anyway.” “I’m older than _you,_ Chara!” Chara smirked as if she knew something that Asriel didn’t.

“Not by _that_ much. Besides, age doesn’t always make you _smarter_ anyways. ” Asriel started sulking and shuffling his feet, Chara’s little jab stinging him a bit more than she had intended if her expression was any indication. “Hey, Asriel, did I say you’re stupid?” “No…” “Then why are you acting like I did, you knucklehead?” Chara gave Asriel a light smack on the back of his head, as both chuckled. Curiously though, Asriel thought he heard something quietly ringing from the direction of the forest. “Did you hear that, Chara?” “You sure that ain’t your head ringing from my smack there?” Chara chuckled as Asriel strained to listen further. “No, I’m hearing something different…” “Well, what is it then?”

Asriel turned to face the forest off in the distance, straining to better identify the sound. “Sounds like wind chimes.” Chara scoffed in condescending perplexion. “Why would wind chimes be out here? I mean, _nobody_ ever goes out here. ” “We do. So does Buck.” Chara sulked as Asriel briefly reveled in punching a hole through her otherwise-sound logic. “Well, he’s _training_ , and we’re having fun. That doesn’t count.” “Yeah, _right._ ” Asriel continued to listen to the chimes, faintly hearing a tune among the seeming discord of their noise. “Hey, Chara, I think it’s a song.” “Well, what's the song then?” “I dunno. I can’t hear it very well. It’s like someone's rattling the chimes with a stick or something.” Asriel and Chara’s youthful curiosity served to drive them both towards the source of the sounds as they walked across the sand berms holding the lake at bay. The waves that had formed from the crash of the stalactite had now stabilized into minute ripples that could barely be seen.

Except, there was something moving in the water. Asriel didn’t notice it at first because the water was so opaque and the waves were still large enough to mask the movement. “You see that?” “You trying to pull my own trick on me now?” “No, _really,_ Chara! Do you see _that?_ ” Asriel pointed at the series of wakes that were now growing in size. There was no real direction with which the wakes travelled, but it was enough to spook the duo. “What is that? Do you think anyone lives out here?” “Not with Buck dropping _stalactites_ on them. ” Both began to slowly walk towards where they had last seen Buck, hoping that he’d know just what this was.

Curiously, Asriel noticed out of the corner of his eye that the ripples seemed to be aimlessly pursuing them, not directly following, but still maintaining a close distance in any case. “A-Asriel?” There was a noticeable lack of calm and coolness in Chara’s voice; it was very unlike how Chara typically spoke. Asriel swallowed hard. “Yeah?” “Don’t. Look. But when I say run, you _run!_ ” Asriel and Chara started sprinting for safety as something breached the water behind them, yet no other sound could be heard save for their own panicked breathing and their desperate footfalls.

“ _What was it‽_ ” Asriel looked over his shoulder, not seeing anything except for Chara slowly falling behind. But something had left the water, that much was obvious given the sudden surge of waves from a point along the dike. “Chara?” She didn't respond, continuing to run at full speed. “What was it?” He quickly halted, his curiosity piqued more so than his drive to flee. Chara was caught off guard by Asriel stopping, so much so that her legs slid from beneath her and she fell down on her back, grunting in discomfort. “Why are you _stopping‽_ ” “What did you see?”

Chara paused, eyes closed and her face contorted into what Asriel amounted to resigned annoyance. “It’s not so much what I _saw,_ but what I _heard._ ” “But I didn’t hear anything.” Asriel suddenly noted that there was a loud rattling sound, as if a metal chain was spooling up on the ground, but what got his attention more was Chara’s expression in both her eyes and her voice: _pained_. “ I know you didn’t. Because if you had, you would have never–” A sharp burst of pain suddenly struck Asriel as his vision blackened and everything became muffled.

* * *

Asriel awoke to a soft light shining down on him. As he sat up from what he found to be a cot, Asriel grimaced as the back of his head rung, his hands reflexively grasping at the source. “Ah, ya be awake now. Good-good.” The voice was fairly muffled, although Asriel guessed that it was something to do with his splitting headache. His vision was still fairly cloudy, although he could faintly make out two figures looking at him. One was wearing green and yellow – likely Chara – and the other looked faintly like his mother. It was the white fur that made him think that at first, although the thought quickly died away as he regained focus and saw that the monster in question was an old dog monster with steel-silver fur.

He realized soon enough that this had to have been Buck minus the bulk of his armor as well as his hood, He held up a gloved hand, raising three of his fingers. “‘ow many fingers d’ya see ‘ere, sir?” “Uh, three?” “Al‘ight, d’ya know who ya are?” “Asriel Dreemurr. Prince of the Kingdom of Monsters.” “And who be the lass sittin’ next to me?” Chara waved at Asriel. “Hey, Azzy.” _‘Azzy’? That’s a new one; did she get that from Buck?_ “Hey, Chara.” “Well, ‘tis a relief. Seems like ya both be fine then. I’ll go get a quick supper fer the two o’ you. You young’uns don’t mind homemade pizza, do ya?” “ I doubt there will be any complaints, sir.” “Well, that’s good. Be back in a bit then.” Buck smiled warmly at Chara’s gracious response before turning and leaving the room.

The room itself was provisioned with several cots, a pair of weapon racks and several barrels that were marked as long-term rations, all of which befit either a survivalist’s bunker or a military outpost. Chara was leaning against one such barrel, a curious expression fixated on Asriel. Though as the expression held, “curious” became more of an understatement; it was a starkly unwavering smirk combined with a soul-piercing gaze. “Chara, that’s a creepy face you’re making there.” Her expression remained stalwart for another moment before breaking into mirthful laughter; Asriel joined in soon after. “Sorry for scaring you, Azzy.” “’s’okay, Chara. What happened?” Chara shrugged. “Buck found us knocked out. Didn’t find anything else.” “You sure?” “He’s a _royal guard_ ; I doubt Dad gives that job away like it’s candy.”

Buck called out from the room next door. “Oh I wouldn’t say nuffin’ like that, lass. Ya haven’t seen me cousins, I take it? Annoying li’l pups, ‘specially that Toby.” “Sounds like a good tale to tell over supper.” “Oh, aye! If’n that supper were a bloody banquet!” Asriel and Chara laughed, both at Buck’s remark and how pronounced his accent was suddenly becoming. “That bad?” “Oh, don’t gimme started, lass! I’ll talk ya ta death if’n I start runnin’ me mouth like I am now!” “You have an accent that I haven’t heard in a long time. Do you know what it is?” “Ya askin’ the wrong person, lass. If anything, you’d probably know more ‘en I would ‘bout it.”

Chara chuckled again, the same kind of chuckle that Asriel had heard frequently in the past. Typically he heard it whenever Chara was feeling rather confident in a situation for whatever reason. Usually, Chara was about to show off her seemingly vast intellect or her uncanny skill in some physical endeavors. It was normally a sign that Asriel took as a pleasant one, for Chara seemed to enjoy every chance she got to shine in the spotlight.

But this time, Asriel didn’t feel the same sense of familiarity or warmness in Chara’s laughter. He still smiled all the same, but inside he didn’t feel so happy or relaxed. For some reason, he felt a chill creeping along his spine. It wasn’t the kind of chills he’d had from eating ice cream or getting dropped into icy water.

He could only describe it as Chara had once said to him: “the calm before the storm.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> What if I told you that the sound I was attempting to recreate via Asriel's description was a [waterphone?](https://youtu.be/foSJstDFDfg) I'd say that even if it may be a tad bit overused in today's horror/suspense films, it still fits. I mean, how often do you think Asriel hears a waterphone in his day-to-day life?
> 
> When I was writing Buck's dialogue, I initially was going for a stereotypical "back in my day" voice instead of the thicker, kinda-sort of-Scottish accent, but then I saw _Braveheart_ when I was polishing this... and you can guess what happened next. At least I don't have to deal with writing that accent any time soon after this chapter.
> 
> Now I just gotta deal with mimicking a vocal combination of Luca Brasi from the first _Godfather_ and Rocky Balboa... that statement will make much more sense once Chapter 7 is out; trust me. And if you're still with me after this chapter, thanks for reading.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Also, we've hit 100 views. Not gonna lie, but I was honestly expecting less by this point. I also wasn't expecting Kudos and a bookmark so early for a story that's developing so slowly and taking up a lot of words. I'm glad the three of you find this especially enjoyable. It's been equally such for me to write this.


	7. Filius Mortis

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, three weeks. Or 22 days, if you wish to be so precise. Either way, far longer than I was hoping, but as I've stated in the past, _I'm freakin' anal about quality._ If I can make it better, I will make it better. That's better for my sanity, better for you the audience... just better for everyone, really.
> 
> Now, on to the chapter at hand. Longest one yet, according to MS Word at least. If you need a translation of the title, it's Latin for "child of death". _(Although I trust Google Translate's capabilities about as much as I trust the emails about "my cousin, the imprisoned Nigerian prince.")_ Anyway, picked the title ~~not so much for its rather boringly-frequent usage in "ermagerd, so edgy" works~~ okay, fine, I picked it because it's so cheesy and edgy and I wanted to make it truly dark again. But I also picked it in reference to a certain character in this chapter. Not necessarily a _new_ character, mind you, but a character appearing within this chapter.
> 
> Also, there's a couple faces in here that I hope you find entertaining. The notes in Chapter 6 mentioned a hybrid of Luca Brasi and Rocky Balboa; that was how he sounded to me and my beta reader anyway. And check the character tags; I think someone might have shown up a little early with regard to Undertale's canonical plot, but I'm not quite sure. Check for me, would you kindly?

_ Hey, Frisk, the least you could do is, well,  _ say something _._

Frisk was paralyzed by some subconscious fear of the voice that she heard in her head. It was too familiar for her comfort, and the word that the voice had used to address her was especially disturbing: ‘partner’. ‘Partner in what manner’ was the question. _Who are you? Straightforward as usual, I see. You never were one for rambling on like Noah. Who. Are. You? Are we really playing _this _game then? Fine. I am your partner, the voice inside your head. Your conscience, as it were._ “My child, are you alright?”

Toriel’s voice brought Frisk out of her entranced state. Frisk shook her head to clear her senses, finding that while she had remained standing, Toriel was now kneeling in front of her, concern plastered across her visage. The skeleton known as Sans was standing behind and off to Toriel’s right, his hands still buried in the pockets of his hoodie. He was still smiling the same closed-tooth smile as before, but you could sort of tell that he was worried as well; his “eyebrows” were raised and the lights in his eyes were shrunken, much like how the pupils in someone’s eyes might dilate. Even his smile seemed to shift slightly, but it was so subtle that you could barely notice.

“you look like you got spooked there, kid. you alright?” Frisk nodded. “Yeah, I’m… I’m okay.” _No, you are not._ “No, you are not.” The voice and Toriel spoke at the same time, which only served to amuse the voice and unnerve Frisk even more. Sans merely stood behind Toriel, either oblivious of what Frisk was experiencing or ignoring it all the same; his face didn’t give many clues, thanks to that constant grin of his, but he still continued to view the scenario with all the laziness of an obese house cat. For her part, Toriel seemed unaware of the voice, but she still looked as if she wanted to take back her words.

“My child, you remind me of my daughter in so many ways that it is uncanny.” Frisk’s expression was one of confusion, as it was hard for her to believe that Toriel had a human daughter. _Then again, I’m not the first girl to fall down here, am I?_ “How?” “Well, you look just like her, except that she was paler than you.” _Roll around in some dust and you’d probably look more the part._ _ What? Oh, don’t mind me! Just making a stupid little joke._ “You are also rather reserved in how much you talk. Less is better for you, it seems, but I feel as if…” Toriel paused again, her thoughts suddenly halting her tongue. “The more I compare you to her, the greater the resemblance I see. Perhaps I should stop.”

Sans cleared his equivalent of a throat, causing Toriel and Frisk to face him. “actually, you two probably oughta get goin’. my bro might come back and if he does… well, you’ll have to sit through more of my hilarious jokes.” “You make it sound like a ‘pun’-ishment.” Frisk didn’t react much externally while Toriel only smirked at her own wit; Sans’ eyes seemed to brighten in amusement as his smile somehow broadened even further. “well, it’s better than a trip to the royal ‘pun’-geon, by my guess.” Toriel choked back a laugh, but Frisk was not so durable, starting to guffaw a bit. “Glad to see your repertoire of puns is still growing.”

Sans merely shrugged, his face settling into a less emotive expression. “eh, i just parrot back what i happen to find. found a couple new joke books not too long ago, but it’s like i’m repeating the same set every day. not that they ain’t funny anymore, though. they still crack up my funny bone.” “Well, that is good to…” Toriel paused, a great smirk slowly crossing her face. “‘Crack up your funny bone’…” Howling laughter broke into the air from Toriel as Sans merely winked knowingly. “gee, was it something i said?” Frisk waggled a finger at Sans, fully aware that Sans was playing up his sarcasm very well.

“okay, i’ll behave now, kiddo.”  Sans chuckled. “actually, hate to bother ya, but can you two do me a favor?” “What is it, Sans?” “i was thinking… my brother’s been kinda down lately. he’s never seen a human before; seeing you might just make his day.” Frisk felt Toriel silently embrace her in a protective manner. “he’s not dangerous, toriel. even if he tries to be.” Toriel stared at Sans, her protective nature still governing her response. Frisk, on the other hand, calmly pried herself from Toriel’s grasp. “Sure, we can do that.” “hey, thanks a million, kid. i’ll be up ahead.” Sans started walking… back the way that they had come, the exact opposite direction that his brother had gone. Toriel and Frisk stared at each other, both quite puzzled to say the least.

“Isn’t your brother the other…” But Sans was nowhere to be seen. The only response to be heard was the wind, blowing calmly with nary a care in the world it seemed. Although Frisk could have sworn that she was hearing someone hum off in the distance. “Do you hear that?” “I’m afraid I do not, my child. What is it?” “Humming.” “Is there a tune to it?” Frisk listened further, noting that there was indeed a tune to it and humming alongside the sound softly. Toriel hearkened to the tune, likely in the hope that it might be something familiar. Her gradual shift into annoyed sulking suggested that there was no real success in her endeavor.

Frisk paused her tone matching briefly. “Anything?” Toriel didn’t respond immediately, still brooding in deep thought. “That tune… it sounds so familiar, yet I cannot remember why.” _Boy, when she remembers, she’ll be a sobbing mess._ _ Why? C’mon, Frisky, _really? _You know ‘why’, so why are you asking_ me? _ Don’t call me ‘Frisky’._ The voice chuckled, yet for all the dialogue that Frisk was having with her mysterious ‘partner’, Toriel didn’t yet seem to notice that there was such a dialogue occurring. _Well, alright then. Now, partner–_ _ Who are you? I want to know _now. _You know, you’re awfully chatty when you don’t have to use your mouth, you know that?_ _ You’re not answering me. How do you know who I am? And how are we partners?_ There was a soft tutting as Frisk reflexively started to clutch at her head, tinnitus accompanying a sudden but subtle headache.

 _You want an answer, but that answer is not as simple as you would want. Noah would understand it better than you, but he has the advantage of being a little know-it-all with_ nothing _better to do in his whole damn life than chatter like a drunken squirrel and prudishly mock your trivial folly._ _ And you said that I’m chatty. Wow, guess you took up Noah’s smartass shtick for him; kudos. But did you still want an answer?_ _Uh, sure?_ _Then riddle me this, partner: why are we still_ here, _still playing this_ charade _of a game? What have you and I done to deserve this fate? We’re_ both _trapped in this everlasting hell, and I’m trapped in your mind on top of all this. Everything we’ve said and done in the past was done out of prosaic ennui and nihilistic curiosity because we were trapped to begin with, and now you act as if you cannot recall_ anything _of our past adventures._ _‘Prosaic ennui’? Do I look like a_ dictionary _to you?_

The same headache suddenly swelled from dull throbbing to a sharp burning sensation. Frisk felt herself collapse to the frostbit ground, her knees having suddenly given way to the rest of her small frame. _Why do you taunt me so; those were among the first words you said to me when we first met, and you’ve never spoken them since! Surely you must be joking…_ right? _Uh… no?_ _What do you mean ‘no’? You still remember who I am, don’t you?_ _Uh… no. Should I?_ Frisk felt the pain fade away slowly, but it soon returned and doubled to the forefront. Frisk became too paralyzed to clutch at her skull, despite her overwhelming desire to rip out whatever was causing the pain. _Am I cursed_ more so _than you now? Tell me this is all just a stupid joke; you’ve never done this before, and it’s actually scaring me a bit! Frisk,_ please _tell me you’re just pulling my leg here! My name, what we did together, the good times and the bad… please tell me you remember even a_ bit _of it! Because I_ don’t _want to be the only one who can remember_ any _of what we did! I don’t_ want _to go through that a_ second _time! Frisk, please stop this! Stop it_ now!

“My child! Are you alright‽” Toriel’s words proceeded her warm embrace as Frisk felt herself being lifted off the ground and onto her feet again. She looked up to find Toriel searching her face, deep concern plastered on her visage. _Sorry… you’re fine, Frisk. I just… I don’t want to go through another second of the eternity I thought I had escaped… I’m sorry, Frisk_ … “…I’m just tired.” “This seems more than just that, my child. I do not recall human children being constantly tired like this. Are you sure that there is nothing else I should know?” “I… guess not?” Toriel stared at Frisk, likely wishing that Frisk was more forthcoming, but she soon relented, standing up and now proceeding to walk towards where Sans said his brother would be. Frisk couldn’t imagine how Toriel would be able to assist her with a ghostly apparition that nobody else seemed to hear.

 _You know, I really couldn’t blame you for wanting to tell her about me. Although it puzzles me why you’ve not been very talkative or flirty… although didn’t you call her “Mom” earlier?_ There was another bout of chuckling as Frisk blushed in embarrassment. _Um… yeah? And why did you call her Mom? Well… she reminded me of my gramma… because… she’s nice… and…_ There was a click of a tongue, as the voice processed Frisk’s exceptionally lackluster excuse. _Let me ask you this… are you feeling any sense of déjà vu?_ _ “Déjà vu”? Let me reword that… do you feel like you’ve seen, heard, said, or done _any _of this before? And I mean_ anything. _Does any of this feel familiar to you in some degree? Basically, did you hit the rewind button on… you know, I forgot what you said people use for movies nowadays…_

Frisk paused in her dialogue as she contemplated the voice’s query, but she continued to walk alongside Toriel in a fairly autonomous fashion. Toriel looked down at Frisk, calmly smiling and visibly grateful for Frisk’s company. _Uh, yeah. What specifically? Can you tell me? Hearing you talk._ Frisk smirked ever so slightly as the voice groaned in annoyance. _Wow. That was really snarky, you know that?_ _I’m actually serious though. Your voice sounds familiar, but I don’t know why. Is that déjà vu? That–actually, that’s exactly it, Frisk. See, we were partners, but something’s happened. What happened? Do you know? _

Deathly silence was all Frisk received from the voice, even as she continued to walk steadily alongside Toriel. _Well, do you know what happened? Sorry, I’m just… thinking. And no, I don’t even remember what happened. Really, the last couple loops have been… foggy. Frisk, you seriously don’t remember… _anything _at all? About who I am? Who any of your friends are? What they meant to you in the past?_ _ Should I? You _always _did before._ _ “Before”… what does that even mean anyway?_ There was a faint sigh, sounding almost resigned. _Some days, I wish that word and a few others related to it didn’t exist in the English language… probably wouldn’t solve my problems though. It’s not like purging a word from a lexicon would actually change anything. Heh… guess the old you was right about me and Noah using the same big words._ The voice chuckled briefly, but Frisk did not respond, choosing to continue walking along the path instead. Although the mention of Noah did provoke some thought. “ Do you think Noah will be okay?” Toriel was the only one to respond. “I do not know, my child. I do not know.” 

* * *

Noah stiffly walked through the field of snow that currently made up this mental landscape. Surrounding him in the atmosphere was nothing but a blackened expanse, much like that of the forest where he was before he’d been tasered into unconsciousness. He walked past a thick tree branch that looked as if someone had sent it through an industrial press, followed by a wood chipper. It was the same one that he’d encountered with Toriel and Frisk before he fell unconscious, but in his mind, he merely inspected the scene before he blacked out.

Well, what he could recreate of the scene from his memory and point of view anyway. He visualized himself with a pair of electrode probes embedded in his neck; had his hood been up, he might have lucked out, but then again, stun guns were typically designed to get past anything short of a Kevlar vest. He remembered only vaguely how Toriel and Frisk had reacted to his situation. A faint and unintelligible scream belonging to Frisk echoed through the dreamscape, calling out after him; he couldn’t quite visualize what had to have been happening at the time, but if anything was certain, Frisk didn’t like whatever was going on. Given the strong yank Noah had felt after those electrodes began pulsing, he likely had been dragged away.

Noah had plenty of questions regarding that whole ordeal. _Did Toriel set us up? Why would she do that? What would she gain from it? And was the kid taken? Is she okay? If Toriel didn’t set us up, is she okay? Are they together? Safe?_ Noah kept picturing Toriel with the same fury in her eyes as before, bathing the forest around her with hellfire as she held Frisk securely huddled into her shoulder. _I hope it wasn’t that stupid flower again… although, how does a flower even talk? And how exactly does magic work, let alone_ exist _like… well,_ this? _And no offense to Toriel, but just what is she supposed to_ be _anyway? There’s no way she’s a human, so what else could she even_ be? _None of this makes_ any _sense, and I hate it! Just what the hell is going on here‽_

Noah felt his blood pressure start to spike as he began to angrily react to his mental dilemma. Given that nobody was around to witness – especially Frisk – venting some especially unsavory words and violence felt like a good measure of catharsis. A random tree became the victim of Noah’s physical and verbal blows. Yet even still, Noah felt it would be par for the day if the tree would suddenly spring alive, take offense to being called a maternal fornicator, and respond in kind. The mere thought of that served to halt him as he now leaned against the tree. _Is this a punishment? Being driven to insanity? Why is all of this happening? Couldn’t this end already?_ Noah slumped down and unceremoniously sat in the snow at the foot of the tree. “ I hate this. _All of it._ Not knowing what’s going on. Not understanding even a _bit_ of it… I just… this just… really freakin’ _sucks._ ”

“You _know…_ ” Noah flinched, the ever-present eidolon speaking yet again. It was starting to wear on Noah’s patience heavily as the invisible speaker chuckled to itself. “…you seem like you’re overthinking your situation. Chill out, take a load off, grab some shuteye… just stop thinking about it and just go with the flow, man.” “ _Great,_ you again? ” “Yes, _me again._ As if there’s _anyone else_ in your dreams who can talk to you of their own accord. Did you really think I would _ever_ leave your side, _friend?_ ” “Since when were we ever friends? Just the way you _talk_ makes me think otherwise; you’re just _irritating_ to listen to. ”

The voice chuckled insidiously, much to Noah’s chagrin. “Aw, thanks. It’s tough working so hard to have my chums think of me as _irritating._ But you still don’t recall… _anything?_ You used to fully recall quite a bit when this happened the last few times. ” Noah sighed heavily. “ _Again_ with this? What do you even _mean_ by ‘the last few times’? Am I some kind of– ” The voice laughed, as a flock of ghostly ravens suddenly burst from the tree and swarmed around Noah. He got to his feet, backing away and covering his face in reflex, as the apparitions surrounded him with ebony wings and shrill calls, before suddenly melting into a black choking fog. Noah coughed and hacked in the noxious fog covering him. “Would you _stop doing that!_ ”

Another stint of raucous laughter told him “no”, but the voice soon caught its breath, the fog quickly lifting as well. Noah groaned in annoyance and brushed off a few errant feathers that stuck to his windbreaker, the plumes disappearing on an intangible wind as he did. “Could you at the very least just _tell_ me what the hell’s going on here? ” An exaggerated sigh was heard. “Oh, _fine_ … guess I should be nice to you at least some of the time. Once you wake up though, you’ll wish you had me around to torment you like this.” “What, you’re not sticking around?” Noah smirked insolently, almost daring the voice to continue.

“No, I think your captor is going to be punishment enough. I mean, he thinks you’re the guy who’s playing with time when you most assuredly have _not._ ” Noah’s face contorted into perplexion as his brain chewed on the cryptic comment. “Wait-wait-wait–what do you mean _‘playing with time’?_ ” “‘This isn’t the first time you’ve seen this.’ I’ve said it before, _haven’t I?_ Please tell me you’ve not become an idiot in this cycle. ” “I’m not an idiot. But seriously, ‘playing with time’, ‘not the first time I’ve seen this’, your ‘hints’ are so vague that _of course_ I don’t know what the hell you’re talking about! ‘Playing with time’… how do you _play_ with _time?_ ‘Not the first time I’ve seen this’... what, like I can see the future or some bullcrap like that? Or like– ”

He paused suddenly, a possible answer surfacing and sending chills down his spine. “…like a _time loop_? Is _that_ what you’re talking about? ” A soft tutting echoed in the dreamscape. “Took you long enough, you _moron._ I mean, I’ve been dead for at least 106 years, but I figured it out after the first two repeats or so. How many have you been through here, I wonder? ” The voice began to chuckle. The thought of being stuck in the same period of time indefinitely served to paralyze Noah until he suddenly thought of a curveball question. “Well, do you know how long you’ve been down here?” “ _Seriously?_ What part of _‘I died 106 years ago’_ did you _not_ understand, _moron‽_ Yeesh, you’re _really_ slow this time around, you know that? Frankly, I stopped caring after the first hundred-thousand loops or so. I’d wager it’s been at least a good million or so. Years, I mean. Although if you’re trying to get me to turn into a _blubbering idiot_ like you were about five minutes ago, you’re going to have to try a little harder than _that._ ”

Noah could easily guess that the voice would have been smirking psychotically, judging from the tone alone; the condescending chuckle didn’t help matters either. “Now, as much as I love our little heart-to-hearts, it’s time for you to wake up.” A loud static noise filled the air as all of Noah’s hair stood up on end. “Oh, what’s this gonna be? Stun gun? Shock therapy? C’mon, I’ve had worse.” “‘Bragging idiotically about one’s pain tolerance’, check. ‘Tempting fate like an idiot’, check. ‘Is an idiot’, triple-check.” Coincidentally, Noah could have sworn that he’d heard something like a pencil scrawling out the same check marks. “I’m not an idiot; sure, I act stupid at times, but I’m not an _idiot._ ” There was another chuckle from the voice as it seemed to enjoy Noah’s brand of self-depreciating humor. “ _Right…_ now, you’re going to feel a very minor jolt that will coincide with a less-than-lethal electrical current being discharged into your system. ” “Oh, lovely! Is it gonna be one-point-twenty-one gigawatts, Doc? Am I riding the lightning tonight?”

“Hey, McFly. He says ‘jigawatts’ and you know it. And no, you’re not dying at the hands of this guy. Pretty sure he’s going to do everything in his power so that you survive _everything_ he throws at you. ” “And who exactly is this guy you’re talking about?” “Just someone who hates your guts enough to do this, but is smart enough to know what killing you could mean for him. Even _I’m_ curious to know just how much this is gonna hurt. Say, do you smell that? ” “Smell what?” “That’s the smell of _pain._ ” “…now how do you even–” The voice suddenly burst into demonic laughter as lightning bolts shot from all directions, paralyzing Noah with a vice grip of induced spasms, all the while as his lungs expelled air in a silent scream.

* * *

“Hey, stop screaming so loud. I kinda need my ears to hear stuff, ya mook.” Noah’s vision suddenly returned as he woke up frantically and with heavy breathing. After some time spent catching his breath, Noah tried to move his limbs, but found that he was bound at the wrists and ankles by cold metallic clamps. He could rotate his head though and while his vision still danced with stars, he could still make out that he was suspended in the air slightly. Noah attempted to speak, but he found that he was gagged.

Suddenly, a large armored hand grasped something on the corner of his face and yanked the culprit off; Noah winced in pain from the residual adhesive that stuck to his face. “Where am I? Who the–” A brief but potent zap of electricity served to squelch Noah’s interrogation attempt. “Ah, ah, ah, I’m asking the questions here, bud. Now, see this?” The same hand produced a small remote with a dial and a button on the top. The dial was clicked to a certain setting and the button was pushed; almost immediately, Noah’s face grimaced involuntarily as more voltage pulsed throughout his neuromuscular system. It wasn’t anywhere near as harsh as before, but it was enough to make a statement.

“Alright, get it now?” Noah nodded unsteadily, breathing heavily all the while. “Good. Let’s get started then.” A harsh spotlight turned on in front of Noah’s face, blinding him in the typical fashion of a 1950’s detective. A chair was produced from the darkness, soon followed by the silhouette of Noah’s interrogator. It was hard to make out any features, but as Noah’s eyes slowly adjusted, it turned out that there were no features to even discern, as the figure was fully clad in a mish-mash of armor and hooded robes. There was a noticeable pause as the figure merely inspected Noah from under his hood; Noah didn’t need to read the body language too much to notice that this guy was all business right now.

There was still no interaction, enough so that Noah briefly thought that the man was asleep. “So… you gonna ask me a question then? ‘Cause, it’s not like I’m going anywhere, is it?” Noah’s interrogator merely sat there, arms clasped in detached resolve, rising and falling with his chest. _At least he’s breathing._ It took another few seconds before the figure spoke again. “Why are you here?” _Finally._ “ Took a little tumble while I was chasing a rabbit.” Noah chuckled softly, but the figure obviously didn’t care enough to react to Noah’s jest. _That or Lewis Carroll isn’t known around here._

He did, however, lean forward, enough that Noah could have head-butt him. Not that Noah felt like giving himself a headache by smashing against a helmet, but the idea persisted regardless. “So, who did you kill on your way here?” “ _…what?_ ” Noah was hoping that this was just a scare tactic instead of an actual question, but given the lack of change in posture, this wasn’t a joking matter for Mr. Poker Face. _Or whatever this guy’s name is._ “You heard me. Who did you kill? You’ve got a certain aura about you; only humans have it.” “ _The hell_ are you talking about? I didn’t kill _anyone!_ ”

A sharp rasp of metal was heard as a blade tip flashed within an inch of Noah’s face. Electricity and tension literally crackled in the air as the figure sheathed his blade back onto his belt in an equally-quick motion. “You’re _lying_ to me; I don’t like that very much.” “ Well, you’re _wrong_ ; I’m not lying. And could you please _not_ try to shank me with your– ” Another burst of high voltage zipped through Noah, switching out his complaints with pained screams. Another round of regaining his breath preceded Noah’s next outburst. “Would you _knock that off‽_ I already told you that I didn’t kill anyone! ”

The figure suddenly lurched forward in the blink of an eye, the same blade now held within an inch of Noah’s throat, sparking with electricity. His voice was the complete antithesis of the fury with which he’d brought the blade up: calm and quiet, yet seething with poison, razors, and battery acid. “You’re _really_ going to continue lying to my face? I know about the resets. _The genocide timelines._ What you call _‘the fun runs’._ _All of them_. I know what you’ve done to us. I’ve seen it all with my own eyes. Watched as you _murdered_ us for your own _cheap amusement._ Do you _really_ think that you’re going to convince me otherwise?”

Noah’s jaw repeatedly opened and shut like a dying fish, completely clueless as to what just transpired here. In one sentence, the person who had been torturing him for reasons unknown had revealed far more to him than the phantasm that was beguiling and bedeviling him and his sanity. Even if the same information was about as helpful to him right now as a bag of dirt would have been. The figure continued to stare, likely at Noah’s eyes if his general anatomy was anything like Toriel’s. _Wait… oh, jeez, please don’t be_ him. “Are you the king? King Asgore?” Noah’s voice was a mere whisper of himself, terror and shock quickly overwhelming what confidence he previously had.

He wasn’t expecting to meet the dreaded murderous king so early and by himself. His captor certainly didn’t seem to regard Noah’s terror, keeping the blade perilously close to Noah’s trachea. He did, however, chuckle briefly, his bass voice ringing in Noah’s ears. “That big old dotard? It’d certainly be _easier_ on you if I _were._ He wouldn’t hurt a fly even if it _bit_ him. But you knew about that already.” _Wait, what– no, I_ didn’t! But Noah didn’t dare say that, not when it would only be taken as another attempt at deception, certainly not with someone holding a blade to his neck. The blade suddenly drew closer, enough that Noah could feel a slight tingle from the electrodes on it.

“Heh… you were thinking of telling me that you _‘didn’t know that’, weren’t you?_ ” Noah could only choke out a squeak, what with the blade now within centimeters of breaching his windpipe. “Well, _damn_ … you really _are_ a special kind of _freak,_ you know that?” Noah started sputtering crazily as the figure retracted his stun knife by a matter of inches. “ What the hell are you talking about? I mean, I just fell into–” “ _Yeah, yeah… ‘just fell’…_ so, figure I might as well ask, but how many times did that skeleton kill you before you got through him the first time? Just curious.” “ What skeleton?” There was a slight chuckle. “So you _did_ kill him then.” “ What? _No!_ I didn’t kill anyone! How many– ” “ _Alright,_ fine! You didn’t kill _anyone!_ Ya happy _now‽_ ” “No.” “Good. You don’t _deserve_ to be.” Noah fumed while his captor chuckled some more.

“But you know which one I’m talking about, right? That ‘comedian.’ The one who fights just like you. A cold-blooded, ruthless killer.” “And what makes you say that? I’m not a killer.” The torturer seemed unimpressed by Noah’s claim. “Well, you were, and you still are. There’s just some things that you can’t wipe clean.” “Like dried molasses? ‘Cause that’s–” Noah’s childish attempt to derail their conversation was promptly rewarded with another dose of electricity. The blade wasn’t held quite close enough for Noah to cut himself, but it was still there all the same, gleaming with electricity. The cloaked figure sighed in a resigned manner, apparently exasperated with Noah’s antics.

“You know… this is just _tiring_ , having to relive the same period of time over and _over_ again. Waking up _screaming_ in the middle of the night. Knowing that whatever you do to try and stop the horrors is just going to be reset and rewound back to the _same damn point in time._ ” Noah was truly at a loss for words, not entirely sure if his captor was short a few marbles or not. “But of course you could care less, _couldn’t you?_ You continue to act like you’re a saintly little child, despite the fact that you’ve got dust on your hands. You psychopathic _freak._ ” The blade withdrew fully, only to be replaced with another dose of electricity from his bindings.

Noah clenched his teeth in pain, hoping that there was no plans drawn up for his execution, even as the torture halted for a brief moment. “I hope this hurts. Because it’s only _a mere taste_ of what I’ve had to experience every _waking moment of my life_. Seeing _everyone’s dust_ just floating away with the wind. Time and time again. Never stopping, never slowing. And do you know whose fault that is? Why everyone keeps on dying and why I’m cursed to remember it all? _It’s all your goddamn fault, isn’t it?_ ” The dial clicked again, and soon enough, Noah was screaming bloody murder as the pain continued to intensify. The torturer impassively crossed his arms, the hand containing the trigger clenched into a heavy fist around the source of Noah’s pain.

After a few seconds more, the voltage cut out. Noah collapsed as far forward as his restraints would permit. A full minute of Noah breathing heavily was seemingly permitted by the masked man, who didn’t even react to Noah’s ragged gasps. Noah’s head hung low, the pain lingering on. “You want to say _anything_ to me? Or are we going to merely sit here until the end of time itself? ” Noah continued to breathe heavily, completely uncaring of his torturer’s words; he merely stared at the ground betwixt him and the torturer. It took a few seconds before his torturer stood up and walked out of the sightline of his stare, returning a few seconds later.

A sharp crack was heard, much like an aluminum can being popped open, soon followed by the sound of someone chugging down a liquid very rapidly. “I’d offer you some myself, but I don’t think you’d enjoy diet. Plus, I kind of hate your guts for doing all of this, so why the hell am I bothering to ask you if you’d want any? It’d just be a waste.” A loud metallic crunch was heard, followed by a tinny clanking as the can was crushed and discarded. Noah continued to breathe in a controlled manner, still recovering from the intensity of his non-consensual electroshock therapy session. “Wh… what’s… what’s your name?” He managed to squeak out the question between breaths, but the message was through. Noah would have tensed in anticipation of the coming electrical shock, but he was too exhausted to do anything else.

But strangely, the figure didn’t react as Noah had expected, merely opting to remain seated. Judging from the lack of rustling clothing and rasping metal, he didn’t move his arms either. “That’s the _first thing you do?_ _Ask for my name?_ You’ve _got_ to be joking…” His tone started off in disbelief, but gradually he began chuckling. “I mean, sure: ask me what my name is. I’ve seen you play that trick before; it’s not like you’ve done it to everyone else. Why should I be any different? Is it simply because I can remember everything? Am I a new toy for you to play with and break like all the rest?” Electricity followed his taciturn monologue, as a further escalation of voltage was applied to Noah with extreme prejudice.

“Why do you find our suffering so enjoyable? Is being the cold, heartless killer not good enough for a _demon_ like _you?_ You just want to see the looks on all of their faces when you _stab them in the back?_ _Is that it?_ You fit the textbook definition of _Machiavellian psychopathy,_ do you realize that? You know what I think you need? Aside from a good straitjacket and a muzzle, I could kill for a tungsten branding rod right about now. What do you think?” Noah was too enthralled by involuntary spasms and voluntary screaming to respond. Mentally, Noah was conjuring all manner of profanity to describe his torture. “Yeah, I think you need a muzzle more than anything else. It’d be nicer than having you scream my ears out.” Despite the majority of his neurons firing chaotically, Noah still felt an all-too-familiar presence in the air about him. _Well, I’m back!_ The voice giggled as it spoke in a sing-song tone.

 _Having fun yet? I know I am! Sadist. Nah, just a healthy love of schadenfreude. Although I suppose that might be considered a form of sadism to some, now wouldn’t it?_The electricity stopped once again, causing Noah to flop against his restraints in silent anguish. His eyes were almost welded shut with lingering pain, but Noah still felt it when his still-nameless interrogator clutched the underside of his jaw and lifted his face up. “Still you persist… you’re _really_ that determined?” Noah heard a heavy sigh. “Well, may as well make sure that you can’t kill anyone _else…_ even if it means we have to sit here until the end of time.” Noah’s head was released, dropping down lifelessly from the severe trauma that Noah was feeling. “I’m gonna grab some pizza. You want some?” Before Noah could gasp out any response, the guard backhanded him in the jaw. “Just kidding. Say, do they have pizza in hell? I figure I might as well ask you. You know, since you should be there n’ all. _Freak._ ” Footsteps echoed in the room, followed by the sound of a door as the torturer left. Noah merely continued to rest himself, even as the lights in the room shut off and plunged him into darkness.

 _So, how’s life? You seem like you’ve had quite the_ ‘shock’ _of–_ _Shut up._ Noah was too exhausted to fully emote his displeasure with the voice’s purposeful attempt at humor. The specter, on the other hand, was laughing as if that was one of the best puns ever made. _Oh, I want to say ‘I’m sorry’, but I’m_ really _not!_ _How gracious of you._ _Oh, please. We both know you don’t mean it. Now, next time he’s here, I want you to ask him if his_ grandfather _would approve._ _When did he say anything about_ relatives? _He didn’t, but he already thinks you’re a time-travelling demon intent on mass murder and genocide anyway. Why not keep up the act?_

 _You know that even if I did do any of that, I still don’t remember any of it. So what does that make you then anyway?_ _ A figment of your imagination? Yeah, right. And why should I even listen to you anyway? Well first, don’t bother trying to ignore me; I can make sure you hear me very quick. And second, because I’m giving you free advice? Will said ‘free advice’ end up pissing off this guy even more? Only one way to find out, I’d say._ A burst of laughter echoed in Noah’s head; it struck him as psychopathic, yet for all the teasing, the voice did seem more intellectual than what it let on. ‘Seem’ was the key word though as far as Noah was concerned.

 _You’re a nasty little piece of work, you know that?_ _I consider myself more of a child at play, but you’re free to believe whatever you think of me. ‘Child at play’… _right… _got any more lies like that you want to feed me?_ _ Not lies, but yes. Although I find your statement about the truth being mere ‘lies’ rather disappointing. Do you truly think so little of my words, my friend? We’re not friends. Must you wound me so? Have you gone mad, darling? Great, I’ve got a madman in my head…_ There was a brief cackle of laughter as the voice found humor in Noah’s words. _Madness is relative, I would think. Either I claim to be mad and I couldn’t possibly be such, or I can deny the charge and I end up proving the charge has merit. Catch-22, isn’t that right?_

 _Exactly how old are you?_ _Old enough, I’d say._ Noah slowly began to fade into catalepsy from his trauma, as the apparition began to fade out of his hearing. _Between you and me, I’d like to think that when I died, heaven was too far for my taxi, and hell kicked me out. Well, gotta go! Things to do, minds to twist, fun to be had. I’ll be speaking with you later then, Noah. Sound good?_ _Go screw yourself. Unfortunately for you, I’m not really into that. Now, I’ll be off. Later, ‘gator!_ Noah passed out fully before he could respond.

* * *

A lack of light can bring out new aspects of a person that you would never otherwise see. Fleeting shadows, audible echoes, and smiling devils: these were just some of the mysterious phantasms that could plague one’s mind on a darkened night. But in this vantablack void, light was a poison, blinding and crippling everything present while they might struggle to adjust to the bright. Yet the darkness continued to torment all, bequeathing psychosis on those of strong mind and bestowing paralysis on those of physical resolve.

_ Carrie? Are you there? _

The haunting echo of a tornadic wind was the only natural ambiance in this expanse of darkness, a frozen, faint blue star providing a source of torment for its denizens and a source of shelter for those not yet a denizen of this hell. Nothing else was to be found here, save for death’s harbingers whenever the Reaper finally came to collect its dues.

_ Carrie, speak to me. I know you’re there. _

Fast footfalls echoed on an infinite stair, their source invisible yet the terror of its source felt by all just the same. A violent screech like that of a mythical siren was soon followed by the agonized screams of a man and a rushing plume of hellfire.

_ Carrie, open this door right this instant! _

Whispered breaths echoed on the wind, the sound of a fluttering heartbeat revealing its owner’s fright. The rasping of an always-sharpening metal blade was accompanied by a slow shuffling of feet. A high-pitched scream from a woman was heard before it was quickly silenced.

_ Carolyn Marie, you’ve been in there for a full day. Get out before– _

The echo of a door opening was heard, soon followed by ragged breaths.

_ Carrie?  _ Carrie‽ Carrie!

A rope was loosed, a body crumpled to the floor and soon sobbing started to echo.

Carrie… _oh, my_ _daughter…_ _why‽_ Why‽

Footsteps echoed in the darkness, coming to a stop.

_ Who’s th– … _ Carrie‽ _How–_

“Good morning, _mother._ ”

A gurgling sound was heard, as a body crumpled to the floor, its neck lacerated by a stiletto razor and now staining the floors and walls with an unholy crimson. The owner of the razor was a mirror of the limp body that the mother held in her arms, yet there was a stark contrast between the dead child and the “living” one, for the latter was the only thing in the dark that bore any hue outside of monochrome. An old cream-white leotard, a soft candy pink tutu and matching ballet shoes, shoulder-length blonde hair in a ponytail, and smooth ivory-pearl skin were the physical aspects of the knife-wielder. Yet it was all a blasphemous lie and a rancorous façade to fool the poor woman; the only tell was that the living one’s eyes were fully blackened like charcoal, completely unlike the cold sapphire blue of the daughter that had perished.

“Maybe you should have listened to _your daughter,_ mother dearest… ‘oh, Carrie, just tell the teachers what’s going on at school _;_ maybe you should try standing up for yourself’… you know, it’s _knife_ to see you again. Really wish we didn’t have to _cut_ this meeting so short, but I really needed to get to the _point_. ”

The phantasm whistled an old tune, the sound of skipping echoing and intermingling with the screams of the unfortunate damned souls that were trapped here. The masque and attire that the spirit had borne for Carolyn’s mother rived itself away, ripped itself asunder and faded into the inky ether, along with the corpses of the ghost’s playthings. What remained of the scene was anything but a pleasant sight: deathly pale skin, ragged clothes caked in blood and dust, a tall, gaunt figure, a pair of blood-stained stiletto daggers, one with a fresh coat, and a maw of razors for teeth. The eyes were the only trait that were reserved from the disguise, but now bearing red irises, glowing with deathly intent.

It was still humorous to the phantasm that the mother had never bothered to inspect the mirage more closely, especially the eyes. “For as the sayings go, the eyes are ‘the light of the body’, ‘the windows to the soul’.” The rattling of wrought iron chains echoed in the hellscape, as the phantasm willed something from a remote corner of the vantablack. “ _And I have no soul._ ” It chuckled briefly. “Well… I have no soul of _my own_ , at the least. But at least my past efforts finally reaped a harvest for myself. Isn’t that right, _partner?_ ” The chains ceased their movement, as the eidolon stared at the point where the chains met. At first, no movement could be seen, nor any light was visible. But that soon changed, as a faint mote of crimson light began to flicker and sputter forth from the darkness, pulsing with the rhythm of a heartbeat.

“I think it’s time that we get ready to pay an actual visit to our friends here. What say you?” The light simply pulsed in the same manner, seemingly as if to emphasize the fact that it was devoid of a life and a will. Yet for some reason, the ghost nodded, a disturbed smile now forming to express some kind of acceptance and acknowledgement. “You know, I keep forgetting that you’re technically dead. Sucks not having a living friend here with me. Could go murder someone, torture some folks, catch a movie… I mean, the possibilities are endless when you think about it.”

The specter deftly unsheathed its blades and gingerly juggled them with all the aplomb of a circus clown. “Suppose I can wait for the fun though. It’s not like I couldn’t just waltz in and start stabbing everyone, but that gets old and boring so unbelievably fast anyway. Besides, that guy is just the monkey wrench I needed before I got bored again. Not that the Seraph doesn’t provide a good few laughs for me, but even _he_ got stale. ” There was another rustling of chains as another person began stirring, moaning in annoyance as they did. “Well, well, looks like someone’s _finally_ awake. Sleep well, sleepyhead? ” “As if hearing everyone I _ever_ held dear _screaming in agony_ before they all died by _your_ hand is going to let me _sleep._ I don’t think that’ll ever really happen until you’re just as _dead_ as they are, _you monster._ ”

The blackened specter turned to face the accuser, who was suspended a short distance above the same plane where the specter walked. It was a short saurian-esque figure wearing a tattered, full-body lab coat stained with grease and many other various chemicals that would befit any disorganized lab worker. There was a makeshift bandage covering the scientist’s right eye, a jagged scar crossing her face from underneath the patch. “Alphys, Alphys, _Alphys…_ first off, isn’t that just calling me one of your own? Seems more a compliment than an insult. Second, why must you be so, so very _ungrateful?_ _I saved your life;_ is a short and simple ‘thank you’ _all that much_ to ask of you? ” Alphys said nothing, glaring at the phantasm with malevolent revulsion and scheming hatred. The phantasm only smirked, somewhat amused by Alphys’ foreboding silence.

“Well, I’ll leave you be now. I’m off to entertain myself. Go bemoan your trite and trivial problems out of earshot, if you would be so kind.” Before a third step could be taken, there was a louder rustling of Alphys’ chains. “Why can’t you just _kill me_ instead of leaving me in this _hellhole?_ ” “Well, I guess I just really want _someone_ to talk to. Even if all I ever hear from you is blind hatred, cold apathy, and _‘oh, woe is me, all my friends are dead’._ Such droll sentiment for a pack of dogmatic, arrogant fools unwilling to trust you after your past mistakes. I certainly didn’t criticize those short-comings; mistakes are just a learning experience to teach us. Guide us into better versions of ourselves and help steer our actions towards future success. I certainly can understand that myself, after all even _I’ve_ made mistakes, my _dear_ friend. ” A primal growl echoed from Alphys. “You’re not my friend; even the flower could see that. Now what do you gain from holding me here?”

The specter froze in thought briefly. “An example of my mercy for the world to see? I don’t know; come up with some ideas for me, if you’re feeling bored. By the way, I _really_ wouldn’t mind hearing less angst-ridden whining about those so-called friends of yours. I _did_ save you from that doomed, paltry hell of a world, did I not? Food for thought. ” “Screw you; it was only a hell because you started killing everyone off!” The specter chuckled. “It’s like you overheard me talking with Noah earlier. At least, the ‘screw you’ bit there at the beginning. I like that; it actually kind of amuses me.” “Hey, do I get to hear your secret plan like every other villain in fiction?” Even with the smug smile on her face, it was plain to both warden and prisoner that there was a glimmer of serious hope behind the dry sarcasm. “You know, that would be foolish for me to do, were I actually a villain. And truthfully, I’m quite saddened that you think so poorly of my mercy and grace, Alphys. You’re alive and well; isn’t that something for which to be joyous? Or have you some woefully-misplaced feeling of survivor’s guilt because everyone else died and you lived?”

Alphys merely glowered at her tormentor. “You know, given your outright resentment and disregard towards my merciful benevolence, I always figured you’d be willing to stab me in the back, should you ever get the chance.” “Does it have to be stabbing your back? I’m comfortable with smashing your face into a rock.” “And _that’s_ why I intend for you to be as little of a threat as possible, if there comes a day when you… well, I suppose _you_ would call it ‘breaking free’, but I digress. ” “More like _when_ I break free. You’ll slip up, I’ll be free, and then you’ll be stopped. A demon like you will always be stopped.” “ Now who says I’m a _demon?_ I mean, aside from _you_ and everyone else with a poor subjective opinion of me, of course. Do I blame any of you for thinking that way? Not at all; you are all blind to the truth of the world anyway. Well now, this was a fun little chat, but I really must be going now, my friend. Enjoy the scenery; I’m sure our mutual friends would relish the thought of chatting with you some more! ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And now you know why I made all those electricity puns earlier.
> 
> Hey, wait, you're still reading? I'm impressed, not to mention rather pleased and grateful as well. I truly am.
> 
> Regarding the torture scene, I was thinking of making it more... realistic, but that felt too dark. Besides, electricity doesn't always leave visible burns in real life, but neurological trauma can still develop. I mean, when a tree is struck by lightning, it doesn't always explode or start burning. Sometimes, it just looks undamaged (and somehow continues to live on), and other times, it looked undamaged, but then it just starts turning necrotic. Because it died instantly. Biology is weird.
> 
> Regarding the last scene, I'll preempt one of your questions and say that _even I don't know where that place is._ Hell itself probably sends its overflow there. Which might explain a bit about this particular occupant.
> 
> Regarding the whistling in that last scene... I can't quite remember what I had originally deigned it to be: either it was Elle Driver's theme from _Kill Bill,_ "Singin' in the Rain" from _A Clockwork Orange_ , or... well, I'll just let your imagination fill in the gaps there. I'm sure those two examples gave you enough context. =)
> 
> Regarding how I tend to begin my preemptive explanations with "regarding"... I'm fully aware of it.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Anyway, future plans. Got some good news and some bad news. Good news is, I'm still working on 8 and 9, and I'm gonna be starting 10 and 11 soon. In fact, 8 will probably be done soon enough, once I finish up a particularly difficult-to-write scene. _[Insert some remark about my OCD-level attention to quality here please.]_
> 
> Bad news is, I resume college nine days from today (today being August 11th, 2018). The "three weeks between updates" deal is likely (and unfortunately) going to become the norm until May of next year hits. If you've got questions or comments, please fire away. Even if it's asking about future content, this lets me know that there's still an interest, and this lets you know that I'm still working on this. Even if most of my answers may just be telling you that I don't want to reveal any spoilers, but I digress.
> 
> Anyway, I hope you've enjoyed this thus far! Still more to come! Throw me a Kudos or some of that other stuff if you're enjoying this work so far! And do share this with your friends and family if you're especially enjoying it; why keep the good stuff to yourself, you selfish little brat? #Sarcasm


	8. Retrograde Recall

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, here we are again. Expect the following fairly frequently as we go on, but whether you've been reading since the first chapter was published or whether you've just started today (September 3, 2018), thanks for sticking around to at least this chapter. Makes me glad to see that y'all are enjoying this so far.
> 
> I noticed after I finished unpacking at college that I had set up my privacy settings on my content fairly strictly. Namely, no search engine indexing, no instant sharing to Tumblr or Twitter, no sharing HTML code for easy embed... _yeah, and I had the blind audacity and stupidity to ask y'all to share this with others._ I should probably make it easier for you to share this!
> 
> Okay now, down to brass tacks. Early on in drafting, my beta reader described a particular scene in this next chapter as being something out of _Nightmare on Elm Street._ Personally, I was writing with the Black Knight from _Monty Python_ in mind. The whole "just a flesh wound" scene. Except I didn't turn anyone into a quadriplegic stump of impotent rage. And I don't think this is a mere "flesh wound" either. _At least it's all a dream..._
> 
> Now before I say "read on" (yeah, yeah, I know, _hurry the bleep up_ ), I should also mention that this is heavier on the "internal dialogue" than previous chapters and has less of what I'd call "narrative voice". Plus, to be truthful: Chekhov's armory is starting to take its toll on me as I try to spin so many plates at once... I want to divulge later plot details, but that'll probably kill the story's intrigue for y'all pretty fast.
> 
> Okay, and that's all. Read on and enjoy, folks! Still just getting started here.

“So, whatcha doin’? It’s pretty dark in here.” “What I’ve been doing since you left: trying to rest.” “And how’s that working out for you?” “Get that static noise out of my head and I’ll let you know.”

Noah was floating aimlessly within this dreamscape that his exhaustion brought to him. Involuntary spasms induced by electroshock torture were neither pleasant nor restful, and his present reality was a reflection of that, being barren and devoid of everything but a blackened expanse. Even still, the voice continued its teasing and tormenting, much to Noah’s chagrin. “Why are you still here? Just to make me suffer?” “Why yes, yes, I am. You want a cookie or something, you goofball?” “I’ll settle for you telling me what's going on instead.” “Hrm… _nah._ ” Noah’s face emoted sullen disappointment as the voice laughed. “How ‘bout now?” “Alright, _how… about…_ no. ” “Now?” “Nope.” “Howboutnow?” “Uh-uh.” “Now?” “You speak German? _Nein._ ” “Now?” “How about Russian: _nyet._ ” “Now?” “Inner city American: _hell naw._ ” “Now?” “Eighth time’s not gonna be the charm for ya, man.” “Now?”

There was a pause; Noah began smirking, expecting an exasperated response. “Exactly _what_ are you trying to accomplish here aside from being a coddled petulant child? ” “Well, _maybe…_ just maybe… if I piss you off, you’ll tell me what I want. ” “I’ve spent nigh on millennia in this false state of life. You _really_ think you could accomplish something so significant? ” Noah shrugged, the gesture exaggerated for emphasis. “ _Exactly,_ I mean, do you really think that you can anger me?” “ _Everyone_ has a breaking point. ” “Does that statement include _you?_ ” Noah’s eyes winced. “You suck, you know that?”

The voice chuckled. “I mean, mentally breaking you into a psychopathic serial killer or an isolative paranoiac or whatever design I would will of you, now that would be a nice treat for this run. It wouldn’t be hard, given _your_ history. _But…_ ” Noah suddenly felt yet another massive headache building before he could query the voice about what it claimed to know. “I’ll just settle for this right now; besides, it’s not like I’ve seen _those_ versions of you before. What with the time looping and all the _‘fun runs’_ , that is.” Noah grunted, falling to his knees. Memories of the hallway in the Ruins rushed back to the dreamscape; the sight of Frisk and Toriel embracing, like that of young daughter and mother, returned to his gaze.

“ _‘This isn’t the first time you’ve seen this’_ … you know, I suppose it wouldn’t hurt to show you what I mean by that. _Wouldn’t you agree?_ ” Noah could only watch as the scene rewound to when their fight was about to commence. Curiously though, he didn’t see any false versions of himself present, but he did notice a small knife in Frisk’s hand, too bright a color to be actual metal, but still bearing the glinting signs of sharpness all the same. He also noticed that Frisk had a lot of white dust covering her clothing. Toriel was preparing a fireball to launch, just like how it had happened earlier. “Prove to me you are strong enough to survive.” But Frisk suddenly charged Toriel, her knife raised for a downward slash. Noah looked on in horror, as Toriel stumbled backwards, a large gash now present in her robes. “ _What‽_ ” Noah’s voice cracked; Toriel looked at Frisk with an equivalent amount of shock.

“ _You…_ at my most vulnerable moment… to think I was _worried_ you wouldn’t fit in out there…” Toriel began laughing in a psychotic fit. “ _You really are no different than them!_ ” Her body suddenly collapsed into dust, a small breeze spreading her once-smiling remains into oblivion. It eerily reminded Noah of an old movie his great-grandfather had shown him once: “ _Infinity War_ ” or something like that. “So, looks like Frisky-bits is a _cut_ above the rest. Well, the rest of _Toriel,_ anyway. ” Noah’s face became one of grim irritation. “Did you really set that scene up for a _cheap joke?_ ” The voice laughed in a harsh, perverse timbre, apparently enthused by Noah’s blunt remark. “Says the guy that asked me _nine times_ to tell him what he wanted. ”

The voice laughed on, oblivious to Noah’s sheepish bearing. “I swear, that was pretty childish and unoriginal, even for _you._ I mean, I’d say ‘yes’, but it gets pretty dry and boring when I just let you know what you want to know. Makes me look impotent, makes you look like some kind of mind control freak, and it really just makes our little adventure together that much more… insipid… obtuse… frankly, just– ” “Stupid?” The voice paused its monologue, if briefly. “Exactly that, my friend. _Exactly_ that. ” “We’re still not friends, you know.” Noah heard a soft tutting of disappointment. “Fine. _Accomplices._ Is that better, Noah? ” “No.” “Bah. _Fine._ We just know each other. ” “A- _hem?_ ” “Oh, for crying out loud, must you be so _litigious?_ ” “It’s what I do best; hitting people’s buttons can be entertaining, especially when they say they don’t have any buttons.” Noah wished the voice had a face to go with it, just so he could see the frustration that was audibly apparent.

 “Well, I can’t say that I enjoy your abrupt lack of friendliness, but I guess this is just a personality clash of sorts. By the way, we did that song and dance of ‘please, no, please, no’ at _least_ a few thousand times before. ” “I take it you stopped liking it after the first ten times or so?” “It was barely entertaining the _first_ time you started it. Oh wait, that’s right; _you don’t remember the first time at all, now do you?_ ” Noah was starting to notice that the voice loved to use his alleged amnesia as a talking point. “You still haven’t figured that out yet? Good grief…” “No, I’m fully aware of your faulty memory, but I still delight in mocking you with it. I do wish you’d remember something from those past timelines though, but then again, you’d probably find some trite reason to blindly despise me even more than you do presently.”

Noah huffed in frustration; it seemed that there was no shutting up this voice, no matter what he willed of it. “Well, I don’t doubt that last bit, but even if you’re right, then I’ve probably asked this before: am I _supposed_ to remember any of that? ” “Frankly, I’m glad you don’t. Just means that I can show you all of the fun stuff, and it’ll almost always be _exactly_ like the first time you saw it! Though I’ve not been able to see a, ahem, ‘fresh start’ in a while, thanks to certain parties. It’d be nice to see how you react to a _fun run._ ” “Oh, ‘fun run’… that sounds very ironic and ‘un-fun’; I can _hardly_ wait. Can I go now? ” “As far as I’m concerned, no. But your _new best friend on the other hand…_ ” A noise of static filled the air, as Noah’s expression flashed from grim annoyance to grudging resignation. “Well, _son of a–_ ” Laughter and lightning escorted Noah out of his trance.

* * *

A prolonged burst of electricity jolted Noah out of his slumber. It ended just as quickly as it had begun, leaving Noah heaving for breath. The room was still pitch dark, but it was painfully obvious that Noah was no longer alone in the room. “I leave for ten minutes to go make a pizza and you’re sleeping like a brick. Guess I’m pretty good at my job, huh. Did you at least sleep well?” Noah took a few moments to catch his breath; the interrogator waited patiently, cracking open another can of unspecified drink in the process. “Is there an answer that won’t hurt as much?” There was a pause, followed by a chuckle.

“Could be. Now back to that question, because you didn’t answer it. Did you sleep well?” “Well, it wasn’t too bad for… ten minutes, you said?” “Hrm…” The guard paced on the floor near Noah. “You asked if there was an answer that wouldn’t hurt as much. Luckily for you, _there was._ ” He noisily cranked the dial before pulling the trigger. “ _Aw, sh–_ ” Noah began to convulse yet again, screaming bloody murder as his neurons wildly fired. “Well, you only need one guess to figure it out.” As soon as the electricity died away, Noah flopped forward in his restraints, his body sore from repetitive exertion and his mind unable to think.

“I’ll be honest, there was a part of me that was hoping you’d be begging for mercy when I came back. Although the same part of me wasn’t going to be giving any to you. There’s nothing you can say or do to change that either.” “What about your grandfather? Would he like what you’re doing here?” _Well, look at that! You listened to me! Congrats!_ Noah’s exhausted mind suddenly went numb with terror. The guard, for his part, now stood ramrod stiff. “You know, I don’t believe I ever mentioned my grandfather to you. And unfortunately for you, I’ve got a memory for this kind of thing.” _Oh,_ crap… _You know, I do believe you just pissed him off._ _Oh,_ you think‽ Gone was the subdued ire of Noah’s captor, now replaced with seething fury and wrath.

“You’re something more than a mere freak. _Aren’t you?_ ” _Oh, I’m_ screwed. _Why would I say_ that‽ _ You tell me, Brains. You broke this guy _yourself, _you know._ _No I–_ Noah felt a heavy fist rush into his chest, flattening him against the back of his restraint and threatening to cave in his ribcage. “What do you know about him? How do you know about him? _Answer me._ ” _What do I even_ say‽ _ Shut up, I’m trying to savor this moment before anything happens to ruin it._ _Well, you know what–_ A sharp rasp of metal rang as a flash of silver flew to Noah’s eyelevel and hung there, ready to blind him in a heartbeat. “ _Right. Now._ ”

Noah was too busy panicking in his mind to respond, but before he could actually blurt out a response, everything flickered to black. He wasn’t comatose as far as he knew, but this was a different kind of dark, almost like the lights had died. “What the– _No!_ ” The lights suddenly flashed and flickered rapidly, robbing him of his sight, but strangely, he couldn’t feel the guard’s fist holding him against the rack anymore. Noah unceremoniously flopped forward against his restraints, not quite certain of what was happening anymore on today’s trip down the proverbial rabbit hole.

“knock knock.”

Noah was spooked by both the lights dying again as well as the new voice that he heard. He still couldn't see anything at first, save for two motes of soft white light; whether this was just burn-in from the light blinding him earlier or actual light, Noah could not tell. Aside from those lights, the room remained pitch black, though the voice that echoed in front of him was an indicator that he was not alone. “hey, knock knock, anyone home?” _Who’s this now? Sounds like a New York accent, but there’s something… off…_ “ Who's there?” “interrupting dog.” “…what?” The lights flicked on again as a door flew open as the guard returned through the door. He was not happy in the slightest, given both the body language and how forcefully the door cracked against the wall.

“ _Where is he‽_ ” “Where is who–wait, _what?_ ” “You know damn well who _and_ what I'm talking about! He just pulled one of his little ‘shortcuts’ on me! Where. Is. That. _Skeleton!_ ” The guard yanked off his hood and helmet, revealing that he was nothing like Toriel in appearance as Noah had thought earlier, having that of an anthropomorphic bulldog. He whiffed at the air, trying to catch a scent of the apparent intruder. Noah didn’t dare move from his forward-leaning position, lest he draw the attention of his now enraged captor. “ _Sans!_ I know you’re out there! Don’t release this monster! _You hear me‽_ _Don’t you dare screw this up, damn you!_ ”

Whomever this ‘Sans’ was, the guard had no real fond appreciation for him or whatever he did. _Wait a minute…_ Noah suddenly began laughing to himself. ‘Sans’ had some uncannily good timing to pull off a knock-knock joke about the guard right before he barged in. The dog however was not so amused, focusing a stare at Noah for a brief second before marching towards him, fury quaking the floor with every step. Noah’s mirth dissipated just as quickly. “What’s so funny, demon?” His voice was sharp in temper and looming, his face curled into a feral glare, and while he didn’t hold his drawn blade on Noah yet, it still flickered in the light, ready to bathe in someone’s blood. “ Um, I, uh… wasn’t, uh… expecting you to be… a, um… a dog.”

The guard added a layer of confusion to his stare. There was still malice, but it was far less obvious. He held that gaze for only a few seconds more before speaking. “A… dog… you’re joking, right?” “What, you saying you aren’t?” The guard clasped his face with a groan of annoyance. “Would you just–” The lights crackled and died again; a few seconds later, muffled screams of rage were heard from off in a distant room. It sounded like the guard was not happy, to obviously say the least. The two motes of white were present again though. “you seem tense.” “Who’s there?” The other figure chuckled. “you know, i’d love to tell ya another knock-knock joke, but we’d probably have to wait a minute or two for the punch line.” “I think I know what ‘punch line’ you’re talking about… and I don’t like it very much. It hurts.” “heh. thought you’d like that. the name’s sans. sans the skeleton.” “Wait, you’re really a skeleton?” “you’ve seen talking dogs and you’re surprised by a talking clump of bones. is that what i’m hearing?” “Uh… sure?” “well, don’t get too rattled now. i’m sure there’ll be more shocks for you soon enough.” The lights cracked on, but the door remained closed, revealing this “Sans” to Noah.

A short figure clad in blue and gray stood in the spot where those two grains of white were floating before. He was indeed a skeleton, but his jaw was fused to his skull in a full-mouthed smile. It looked as if he didn’t have any separation between the rows of teeth either, almost as if his teeth were fused together as well. _Whoa, wait a minute…_ “ Hey, weren’t you stalking us earlier?” Sans raised the equivalent of his left eyebrow, obviously not expecting that particular question. “huh. you saw that then?” “Yeah, how’d you do the, uh… that?” Noah nodded towards Sans, hoping the gesture would cover for his sudden lack of descriptors.

“you mean my shortcut? trade secret, kiddo.” “ _‘Trade secret’?_ What, the, uh, ‘Magical Creatures local’ or whatever got some kind of non-disclose agreement? ” “eh, something like that. so, should we get going then?” “Wait, what?” But before Noah could blink, he felt a sudden bout of nausea and a strong urge to expel his stomach as the world went black in an instant. Just as quickly, his vision returned, but it brought a different view for him. Noah, however had more important thoughts on his mind, such as the retching feeling in his esophagus. He fell forward onto his face, his arms failing to arrest his fall as they splayed outward from him.

“Ouch…” Noah could barely push himself off of the ground. His hands gained precious little traction in what felt like coarse dirt, albeit uncomfortably warm to the touch. The air itself felt unbearably hot and it smelled very pungent. This wasn’t a smell that Noah was expecting, but it was one with which he had a distant familiarity: sulfur gas. Although this variety of sulfur gas smelled stiflingly hot and much more overpowering than a handful of eggs rotting in an old, unkempt poultry coop.

* * *

Snowflakes fell silently as Frisk and Toriel calmly strolled through the well-kept clearing within the forest. Occasionally, Toriel would hum a few snatches and pieces of the tune that Frisk had heard earlier, but otherwise, there was mostly silence, awkward and uncomfortable silence. Frisk would have emoted a bit, but she was feeling abnormally tired. Maybe it was the cumulative events of the day, maybe it was something ado with that flower bashing her into the ground, maybe it was something to do with the voice in her head. In any case, Frisk was just worn out. Just ahead of Frisk and Toriel was a small wooden box with a small clasp latch for keeping the lid clamped down. Frisk casually inspected the box, curious as to why anyone would leave this here of all places. Toriel, however, found a small piece of what seemed to be notepaper attached to the other side of the box. “‘This is a box. You can put an item inside or take an item out. The same box will appear later, so don’t worry about coming back. Sincerely, a box lover.’” Toriel chuckled briefly. “I think your friend Noah would make a few remarks about this note.”

Frisk giggled, a sudden thought of what Noah probably would have said echoing in her head. _“‘This is a box.’ Oh, who would have_ ever _guessed? Hey, did you guys know that this is a_ box? _I know_ I _didn’t!”_ “ Yeah, he probably would.” _You know, he did say those_ exact _words about that particular box once before, right?_ The voice echoed its thoughts in Frisk’s head, reminding her that she was still not alone in her mind. _How do you know that? Wait… the ‘déjà vu’ thingy, right? Precisely. Though it makes me curious as to how you guessed those words _exactly _without remembering anything._ _Uh… I don’t know._

Frisk heard a short but deep sigh. _You know, I should have guessed you were going to say that. Shame on me for thinking otherwise, right?_ Frisk felt the voice fade from her head, the sensation much like that of a soft ringing in her ears fading. “My child, did you not hear what I was saying?” Toriel stared at Frisk, puzzled by the far-off look that Frisk was giving the box. “ Huh–what?” Toriel cocked her head to the side, continually perplexed by Frisk’s lackadaisical behavior. “Are you sure that you are not unwell, my child? You seem to very easily lose yourself into…” She chewed on the word she was about to say, likely trying to find an alternate. “…trances. I do not recall any of the humans that I have known doing such a thing, and yet, both you and Noah seem to do so on a fairly regular basis. Are you sure that you are alright?”

Frisk was about to say that she was merely tired when a scarlet flash of light blinded her sight and something knocked her face first into the snow, smacking the wind out of her as well. A faint wind began to blow, but it soon became obvious that it was a voice whispering into the air. “ _Mur…der–er…_ ” Frisk struggled to catch her breath. _Why does that voice sound like…_ Another voice echoed as well, this one closer and more familiar to Frisk. The tone however was not as loving as Toriel’s voice should have been. “You… you really hate me… _that much?_ ” Frisk lifted herself off the ground to a standing posture and was greeted with the sight of Toriel, both her cloak and her robes slashed from shoulder to hip.

Toriel’s face – bearing a deep gash across her left cheek – emoted nothing but pure horror; Frisk’s face immediately emoted in the same manner as she recoiled from the sight. “T– _Toriel?_ ” “ _Now_ I see who we were protecting by keeping you there…” Toriel slowly started to laugh, even as her features slowly but suddenly began to chip into fine white dust. “Not _you_ … but _them!_ ” Her laughter hit a fever pitch, even as both she and her clothing began to disintegrate at a rapid clip now. “No- _no-no-no-no! Toriel! No!_ ” Frisk threw herself at Toriel, only to become enveloped in a choking cloud of ash that coated both her and her clothing, Toriel’s laughter almost instantly dying on the wind. Frisk sputtered and coughed as the ash disrupted her sight for a few seconds more, clearing to reveal that Toriel had vanished completely; not even her clothing remained.

“Hey, Toriel? Where… _what?_ ” _Noah?_ Frisk turned around, finding that it was indeed Noah that she had heard. But something seemed off about him. Instead of the dark green irises he had born earlier, his eyes were much brighter and more radiant, as if he were wearing contacts. His attire had drastically changed from the windbreaker, hoodie and jeans that he had earlier, now swapped with a hooded cloak and robe similar to what Toriel had been wearing, as well as a loose assortment of what looked like armored pads on his body. But what scared Frisk the most was his expression; it was much the same as the look on Toriel’s face, the shock of what he was witnessing not wearing lightly on him. “ You… you _killed_ her. _Didn’t you… why._ ”

Frisk was dumbfounded by the blunt accusation. Noah’s tone was flat and lifeless, but the subdued scowl that started forming suggested otherwise. “Wha–” A thunderclap suddenly echoed as another crimson flash now blinded Frisk, knocking her back into the snow. Noah screamed violently, obviously in pain, but for reasons Frisk could not yet see. His next dialogue was a mixture of garbled curses and nigh-inhuman noises, all interspliced with wheezing, ragged breathes. Her vision returned and welcomed Frisk to a gruesome spectacle. Noah was on his knees, his complexion full of pallor and shock. His left hand loosely gripped the source of his issues, the grip of a long blade that had impaled him through his chest. His robes were even now changing color from soft lilac to a dull maroon color. He stared at Frisk, his expression disheartened.

“You… _you_ did this… ” “No… _no,_ I– ” “ _Stop._ Just… stop talking. Stop the lying. The killing. The _betrayal_ …” Frisk unconsciously flinched, somehow finding more sting from his words than what she should have. “Toriel only wanted to give you a home of your own, kid. A _home._ Raise you like the other children she raised. _And you killed her with that smile on your face._ ” Noah started tearing up, obviously traumatized by Frisk’s alleged actions. “You know what you are? You’re a sadistic little _freak._ And what did I do… to deserve… well, _this?_ ” His breathing began to slow along with his speech as he began to measure his words. “Please tell me… I want to know… why you felt it necessary…” He fell forward and violently started coughing, his mouth emitting froth and blood. The blade had fully passed through him, metallic silver stained with his ichor. “To stab someone who looked at you… and saw…” But he didn’t finish the sentence, slumping over onto his side with about as much drama as you would expect from gravity doing its job.

“Noah? No, _don’t–_ ” Frisk ran over to him. “Don’t– Noah, I didn’t… I didn’t do this, _any of this!_ Noah, please, _don’t go!_ ” But Noah didn’t respond, let alone react to Frisk desperately shaking him in a vain attempt to somehow keep him alive. “ _Mur…der–er…_ ” Frisk perked at the sound. _There it is again._ “ Who’s there?” Her voice was still cracked and stained with the shock of witnessing those deaths. “ _Mur…der–er…_ ” The voice repeated itself in its singsong chant, echoing through the forest. Suddenly, the wind died, and the snow stopped falling. “ _Mur…der–er…_ ” “Stop saying that.” “ _Mur…der–er…_ ” Frisk was quickly losing what emotional resolve she still had, quickly replacing it with anger. “I’m not a murderer. _Stop saying that!_ ” “ _Mur…der–er…_ ”

Frisk spun around, her patience frayed and her anger unbridled. “ _Stop. Saying! That!_ ” “ _Mur…der–er…_ ” “Would _you–_ ” But before Frisk could list off just exactly what she would have done, she heard a familiar voice behind her, swiftly followed by a chill crawling down her spine. “ _Mur…der–er…_ ” _No, you… you_ died… _didn’t you?_ “ The voice is right, you know.” Frisk froze. Noah’s voice sounded nothing like what he was supposed to sound, starting to subsume an almost static-like noise in his speech. “It told us everything. What you did, what you are, and what you will do…” _It’s just a dream…_ this is just a dream…

But Noah’s bloodied corpse walked around to her front, the blade still embedded in his chest as if it were merely a flesh wound. He held a small razor-thin dagger, red with fresh blood; Frisk kept repeating that mantra despite the sight of Noah alive. “Oh, Frisk… I’m only joking with you. You’re so very right. _It’s. All. Just. A. Dream._ ” Noah’s voice was a distorted husk of himself, not only because of the wheezing and faintness in his voice, but for more malign and insidious reasons. “But _tell me…_ ” He brought the dagger to Frisk’s lower jaw, tilting her head up for her to see his face. His eyes were glowing with a dull red light, as if he were wearing a new set of contacts; his smirk was nothing like his otherwise pleasant rictus, with far more malice and threatening intent buried within. “Tell me something, tell me true… have you forgotten all which you have done to and for these poor souls? Those who thought the _world_ of you, _kill for you, die for you._ ”

A coarse wind blew, as suddenly dust began to form itself into a familiar shape; Frisk trembled in recognition. “To think that she would treat you as anything other than a _child_ …” “How foolish of me, was it not?” Toriel still bore the scars of how she had ‘died’, but her expression and voice were anything but her own: it was the same glow in the eyes, the same demented smirk that Noah was wearing, but all the more disturbing in no small part due to her now-reddened fangs. The quality of her voice was nothing like the lacquered tenderness that should have been present; it was distorted in much the same way as Noah’s voice was. “ _You…_ but you’re– ” “ _‘Dead’?_ Why, yes, _yes I was._ And _whose_ fault was that now, _my child?_ This may be a dream, but you still killed us all. Not this time around, but certainly so in the past. And what did we ever do to deserve it? ”

Frisk was split between paralyzing terror and psychotic hysteria. Never once had a malicious thought such as murder crossed her mind with regards to either Noah or Toriel, yet here they were accusing her of having committed such. Raging flames now emanated from Toriel’s arms, bright crimson hues not unlike the blood present on all gathered here save for Frisk. Her smile grew even more demented in the flickering light. “ _Now, now,_ Toriel. ” Noah raised his dagger in a halting gesture; Toriel relented, if with a disappointed scowl. “We wouldn’t be able to truly harm her here, no matter how much we tried. I mean, after all…” He bared his teeth in a menacing smile. “ _‘This is just a dream.’_ _Isn’t it, Frisk?_ ”

He brought the dagger up to his face, surprise suddenly clasping his expression. “Oh, completely forgot! There’s someone else who wanted to see you! Something about having a _bone_ to pick with you? Isn’t that right, pal?” Frisk was suddenly blinded and knocked down by another flash of light between her and her tormentors, this time a cobalt blue in color. “how’s it goin’? you look a little ‘rattled’ there, kiddo. why’s that, i wonder?” The voice was wrong, just like Noah and Toriel. “ _No…_ not _you too…_ why would– ” “yeah, yeah, we all know what the question is. ‘why would i ever want to hurt you’, yadda, yadda, yadda… although, kinda been wondering that as well. ask the real me about it sometime. see where it gets ya. i’d really love to see how that one would play out.”

This mimicry of a skeleton was, just as with his fellow nightmare clones, scarred in a barbaric and ordinarily-lethal fashion. A ragged diagonal slash much like the one adorning Toriel was present on Sans’ clothes, and what probably passed for blood seeped from both the wound and from his still-smiling mouth. It seemed as if he never stopped smiling, even when in a state such as this. His eyes glowed with the same rich crimson that the others bore in their eyes. “well, sounds like the real tori’s tryin’ to wake you up. let’s not keep her waiting, shall we?” Frisk didn’t know how Sans would be “sending her back” when suddenly, several canid-like skulls appeared from the air itself, circling above her with sharp, streamlined maws and eyes glowing much like Sans’ presently did.

Or rather, how his eyes used to glow, for now only one was glowing, a flashing trifecta of gold, lazurite, and crimson in his left eye as the other went to a blackened charcoal shade; terror overtook Frisk completely at the sight. “that look on your face… heh heh… looks like someone knows they’re about to have a really bad time…” All of the skulls lost the lights in their eyes, then suddenly began glowing a brilliant trifecta of red, white and blue. This all before what sounded like a barrage of lasers from a sci-fi movie echoed in the clearing, and for only a moment more was Frisk still present and alive when the beams converged and instantly turned her to ash.

* * *

Frisk woke up, frantically gasping as she recovered from her nightmare. She checked herself for any residual damage, but the only wounds to be had were denizens of her mind. _Hey, Frisk, what happened?_ “My child!” Toriel wrapped her arms around Frisk in an embrace much like a vice grip. “You just fainted and began whimpering and convulsing! What is the matter, little one?” _Frisk, you okay?_ Frisk stared at Toriel, whose visage suggested that more than a few tears were shed in alarm and worry during Frisk’s involuntary nap. “ I’m–” Before Frisk could even finish, Toriel shushed her harshly; the look on Toriel’s face was enough for Frisk to know that her repeated dismissals would no longer be tolerated.

“You are not ‘fine’. Children – humans and monsters alike – do not do… well, what _you_ were doing. I have lived long enough to know this for a fact. Now you will tell me exactly what is wrong. And I will not take that silly little lie of ‘I’m fine’ for an answer.” _She won’t, Frisk._ _ How do _you _know that?_ _ I’ve known her almost my _whole life. _Just tell her what you saw._ _ That she, Noah and Sans died and then _came back to kill me? The voice went silent. _…yeah, don’t tell her that. It’ll only confuse her and make things worse._ _ And how do you think _I _feel?_ _ Something tells me ‘probably just as confused.’_ “You’re doing it again, little one.” Frisk was shaken out of her internal conversation by Toriel’s voice and nudging. The concern was all too obvious in Toriel’s expression and vocal tone. “Uh, yeah?” “My child, _please._ Tell me what is wrong.”

Frisk squirmed. _Should I tell her about you? Wait, _what‽ _Why would you even_ think _of doing that‽ Are you_ nuts‽ _Well, could_ you _tell her what happened?_ _ What, just because I’m some kind of ghost means that I can somehow _talk to her‽ _ Well, _can _you?_ _ I don’t know! Like she probably wouldn’t go insane from me speaking to her anyway! And why is that? Wait, how have you even known her ‘your _whole life’ _anyway?_ _Uh…_ “My child, please tell me.” Frisk looked up to find Toriel continuing to press the question with motherly anxiety. “I wish only to help you however I can, but you must tell me what is wrong if you want my help.” Frisk stared at Toriel, silently wishing that Toriel would just drop the question and leave it be. _Well, how do you know her?_ _Alright, Frisk. I’ll tell you after we sort this deal out with Toriel, but just this once at least, don’t tell her about me. Please?_ _Fine, then what do I say to her then?_ _Just say ‘nightmare.’ I mean, it’s not exactly_ wrong, _is it?_

Toriel stared at Frisk, hoping to receive an answer for her pleading. “I… I was having a nightmare.” “A nightmare? About what, my child?” _Well, ghost buddy? Don’t say anything. Why?_ Frisk didn’t receive a reply instantly, but Toriel somehow answered the question anyway. “Would it be better for me to… to _not_ ask you about it right now?” _That’s why._ Frisk nodded slowly. “I see. Well… perhaps I might ask another time then?” Even Toriel seemed aware of the awkwardness that this conversation was developing. _Well Frisk, your nightmare, your call._ After some hesitation, she made her choice: “ Sure.” Toriel smiled, visibly glad to have received such a reply. “Alright then, little one. Shall we get going?” “Yeah, let’s go find Papyrus.”

Frisk slowly walked alongside Toriel, grasping her hand when it was offered. The manner with which Toriel conducted herself was very familiar, but for some reason Frisk couldn’t quite grasp. _Is that because of the déjà vu?_ _Probably. Makes me wonder who’s the one in control now._ _Control of what?_ Frisk heard a sigh from her intangible confidant. _Okay, how best to explain this… you’ve heard of time travel, right?_ _Yeah?_ _Well, basically, that’s what’s been happening to the two of us. We keep going back in time to the moment you fell into the Ruins; we’d ‘reset’ the timeline, so-to-speak._ _How?_ _Well, it’s your determination, your driving will to live on. Remember how Noah was saying earlier that you’re like a brick wall in more ways than one? Well, he’s not wrong if you crunch the words into more… abstract terms._ _And what would happen when we’d… reset?_

Frisk chewed on the word; it seemed such an innocuous word, yet in this instance, it seemed far more potent than what it let on. _Well, part of that depends. Either you’d end up in the Ruins – like when you first woke up – or you’d be at a point in time before whatever made you reset. Whatever happened, you’d remember everything that had happened._ _But I don’t remember anything, even though you say I should have. Why’s that?_ _I’m getting there. Now, nobody else would remember, although there were some that could sort of remember traces of the previous versions of the timeline, hence the déjà vu that they would have. Now though… well, it seems that you no longer have any influence._ _Because I’m having déjà vu?_ _That’s what I’m thinking._ _And how are_ you _not having déjà vu?_

The voice paused, likely in deep but brief contemplation. _I don’t know, Frisk. Maybe it’s because I’m technically dead? Or supposed to be dead? I really don’t know; my life’s been just… well, ‘long and weird’ is a_ bit _of an understatement._ Frisk noticed that Toriel was glancing at her, concern still present on her face. “I’m fine, Toriel.” “I hope you understand that I seriously doubt that, right?” “Yeah.” Toriel mused a bit longer before looking forward and walking their path. _So when you said you knew Toriel your whole life… what did you mean by that? Let’s go with the short story. Because while I may not have a physical body, I can only ramble for so long before it gets tiring. No, I don’t know why that is. Haven’t you been talking this whole time? Well, you weren’t able to hear me until after Noah got taken, it seems, so I’m not quite at my limit yet._

“SO AS I WAS SAYING ABOUT UNDYNE…” A very loud and recognizable voice derailed Frisk’s internal conversation. Toriel halted while Frisk took another unconscious step forward as she processed her current environs. Afore the two was another certain duo of skeletons: Sans and Papyrus. Papyrus was the first to notice, quickly turning back to Sans and nudging him with his hand. Sans quickly noticed as well, only to suddenly turn back to Papyrus and nudge him back. The cycle quickly escalated until there was a comedic blur of motion as they turned back and forth to nudge each other before they suddenly huddled facing away from Toriel and Frisk. “SANS! OH MY GOD! ARE THOSE… HUMANS‽ AND THEY LOOK SO… FAMILIAR!” Frisk noted that Papyrus did not seem to have any noticeable idea how to whisper.

They broke their huddle to inspect Toriel and Frisk. “uh, i think they look familiar… because they’re rocks?” Papyrus looked somewhat crestfallen by Sans’ remark. “OH.” Frisk and Toriel were both perplexed until they looked behind them and noted that there was indeed several rocks behind them. “hey, what’s that in front of the rocks?” “OH MY GOD!” Papyrus turned to ‘whisper’ to his brother. “ARE THOSE HUMANS?” Sans said something, but he was actually whispering. “OH MY GOD! SANS! I FINALLY DID IT! UNDYNE WILL… I’M GONNA… I’LL BE SO… POPULAR!” Somehow, Papyrus was capable of projecting his voice far more intensely than you would have expected from such a boisterous character.

Toriel had a look on her face that suggested a mixture of nervous apprehension and bewildered amusement; it wasn’t hard to guess why such was the case. Papyrus cleared his throat, his excitement giving way to a tone more befitting his desired vocation. “HUMAN AND NOT A HUMAN! YOU SHALL NOT PASS THIS AREA! I, THE GREAT PAPYRUS, WILL STOP YOU BOTH! I WILL THEN CAPTURE YOU! YOU WILL THEN BE DELIVERED TO THE CAPITAL! THEN! THEN…” He paused. “I’M NOT SURE WHAT’S NEXT. IN ANY CASE, CONTINUE! ONLY IF YOU DARE!” Papyrus’ laughter echoed behind him as he sprinted away.

“that went well.” Sans was still his eternally-smiling self, even as Toriel walked up to him, a stern grimace on her face. “I hope he isn’t actually planning on capturing anyone, is he?” Sans looked up at her, seemingly unfazed as he winked at her. “don’t sweat it too much, tori. i made a promise, didn’t i? even if you’re got the kiddo with you, i’m still gonna keep an eyesocket looking out for her. i’ll see you gals up ahead.” Sans calmly followed his brother, likely aware of Toriel steadily watching him with all the cold collectedness of a seasoned sniper. “Why don’t you trust him, Toriel?” Frisk was somewhat disappointed with Toriel’s sudden change in demeanor. “Somehow, I feel that there is more to him and his brother than meets the eye.”

Toriel offered her hand to Frisk, and they both calmly strode along the path, Toriel minding their surroundings a bit more than usual. Her free hand was alight with a soft red flame, likely just in case someone tried to accost them. _That’s new._ _ What’s new? Toriel’s reaction; I’ve never seen it before. How come? Well, to be fair, there’s a lot going on here that’s new to… well, _everyone _really._ _ But what’s new about– Don’t ask, Frisk; just don’t._ _Why not?_ _Because I don’t even know. It’s a stupid excuse, I know, but hear me out. This is a new timeline that I’m not sure what’ll happen next, because for one, you and Noah got Toriel to join you two outside the Ruins._ _And that’s never happened before?_ _Not so soon after fighting her anyway. I mean, I don’t think she’s ever been so… I guess ‘unstable’ would be the word I’d have to use._ _Will she be alright?_ _I don’t know, Frisk… that’s like asking me if Noah’s alright, and you already know my answer to that question._

Frisk suddenly remembered something. _Can you talk to Noah?_ _I don’t think so; I mean, I never tried. Why do you ask?_ _Because Noah had a headache after Toriel tried to stop us; remember?_ _That’s… well, then again, I don’t think he ever had_ any _moments of déjà vu. At least while you were around. But that couldn’t have been me; I was still trying to figure out why_ you _couldn’t seem to hear me at the time._ _Were you trying to talk to me earlier?_ _Yeah, right when you first woke up. I thought this was gonna be just another run, but then… well, all that happened._ _Right._ Frisk stared at Toriel’s… she still wasn’t sure if it was ‘paw’ or ‘hand’. Gripping it was like holding hands with someone wearing a fur-covered glove, so Frisk voted on ‘hand’. _So, how do you know Toriel then?_

The voice sighed. _I’m guessing you’re not willing to change the subject, right?_ _Yep._ _Even though she’s right next to you and is already aware that something’s going on._ _…yep._ _And even though this likely will cause you to freak out when I tell you and draw even more of her attention onto you._ _…uh…_ _Yeah. I thought so. Now isn’t the right time for this, Frisk, but I’ll tell you later. Alright?_ _…alright._ _Sorry, Frisk. I just don’t want her to go through any more pain because of… well, because of either of us._ _Okay._ Frisk became curious in another tidbit of unknown knowledge. _What’s your name actually?_ _Still drawing blanks on that one?_ _Yeah. Alright then, Frisk. You’ll be needing a name with the voice sometime soon anyway, won’t you? Guess this is my reintroduction to you. My name is Kiara._

_ Kiara, huh? That’s a nice name. _

* * *

Footsteps echoed and golden light flickered in a passageway filled with marble columns of Doric. Shadows wavered in the hall as a figure clad in full plate armor met another in similar attire, but bearing a long scarlet plume unfurled outside the helm.

“Ma’am, we’ve had reported sightings of humans in Snowdin.”

There was the sound of metal shuffling on metal as the senior turned to face her junior.

“ _Human-s?_ As in more than one? Who reported this?” “Who do _you_ think, Captain?” “Again? Well, let’s just call out the _entire_ royal guard, burn down the _whole_ forest, and capture the humans that may or may not actually _be there!_ _Just like the last ten freakin’ times, right?_ ” The air went dead as the junior soldier upheld his stiff posture. “You… you’re _serious?_ You and I both know the guy’s been talking about this stuff for _weeks_ now. What’s different _this_ time?” “For starters and with all due respect, Captain, there’s actual evidence this time.” The guard produced a travel folder for the captain, who took it and opened it with a swift motion.

“Yeah, didn’t believe it myself either. I know he’s gone nuts, Captain; don’t doubt that any of us are aware that he belongs in a loony bin to cool off right now. But he’s not the only one to have witnessed this today either apparently. The Royal Scientist has video records.” “Alphys? When did... never mind. Your report had my question answered already. Saw the video yourself then?” “Yes, ma’am. It showed three humans exiting the Ruins, but Rocky mentioned only two in his report. Those stills may be recent, but they could already be past Snowdin by now. The Canine Unit is fully mobilized now, but they haven’t reported any yet. Same in the town itself.” “Thinking they’re still in the forest then?” “That’s my guess, Captain.”

The captain didn’t make any vocal emote, choosing to further inspect the dossier instead. “I'm assuming Rocky didn’t just walk up to you and hand it off, right?” “Well, in a manner of speaking, ma’am, yes and no. He called out my name while I was on my patrol and when I turned around, he hit me in the face with this.” The captain chuckled briefly. “Of course he did. He’s only gotten crazier since he went AWOL. Has the search team found where he’s holed up yet?” “No, ma’am. There was a lead, but we didn't find anything.”

“How about his gramps’ private network? Any luck there?” “Buck sure knew his way around the old tech. We’ve been trying to decrypt the passkey for his old survival bunker, but frankly, we can only brute-force a computer so fast. Even the Calculator can’t seem to crack it.” “No offense, Five, but I doubt a stage performer is going to know how to hack a computer. Even if he is a robot. Any other ideas?” “Unless you want to use a battering ram and risk any booby traps the old man rigged up, then nothing else will likely work, ma’am.” “Damn. Keep me posted on that.” “Yes, ma’am.”

The soldier snapped off a crisp salute, and after being returned the gesture, he pulled an about-face and began walking away. “Actually, Five, I’ve got an assignment for you.” The soldier turned to face the captain again. “Yes, Captain?” “I was already headed out to Snowdin today to check with the sentries before you told me this. Guess I’ve got a second reason to visit now. I want you to hold down the fort here while I lead your team to assist the Canine Unit. Think you can handle it by yourself here?” “Yes, ma’am. Shall I inform the King of the reports?” “I’ll handle that myself before I head out, Five. Dismissed.” “Yes, ma’am. Thank you, ma’am.”

05 performed a crisp about-face and walked away from the captain, who remained still until the guard had left the corridor. Once alone, the captain retrieved a compact phone from a belt clip, dialed a number and waited for the call to connect. “… Hey, Papyrus. …My day has been great so far; thanks for asking. …Yeah, sorry, not a personal call this time. Have either you or your brother seen anything… _suspicious_ today? …You’re sure you’ve seen nothing? …Alright, well, keep watching. I’m coming to check out a report I received. …Nah, don’t worry about it. I’m hoping this is just a prank. …Right, stay safe. I’ll see ya later.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Something's very 'fishy' in that last scene there...  
> Yeah, that was a 'crappie' joke...  
> 'Walleye'd' love to tell some more, I don't think you folks would put up with my 'carp' that much longer...
> 
> Enough of that now. Sorry about merely teasing a certain character there; she'll have a proper entrance soon enough, one more befitting a "Spear of Justice". Also, if you're thinking that Kiara is an OC, might I refer you to [Chapter 2](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14675049/chapters/34020474) and [Chapter 6](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14675049/chapters/35655033) once again? I mean, I'm fully aware of "the true name", but am I truly [ignoring the canon here?](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/undertale/images/d/dd/Naming.gif/revision/latest?cb=20170910210655)
> 
> There's some symbolic significance to the names that I'd like to point out, namely (no pun intended) with Noah and Kiara. Those names are not random and they were picked with purpose; a little knowledge of etymology should serve you well in these cases...
> 
> * * *
> 
> As far as the next chapters are coming along:
> 
>  ~~Chapter 9 is going a bit more slowly, but the pen's still hitting the paper, metaphorically of course. Don't expect it any time soon though. College (or cooleg, as a certain other character would say) is tough, and so's my job. I might be able to have it out before the end of the month, but _don't expect any miracles._ **EDIT (12:13PM UTC-6, Sept/30/18):** Unfortunately, I did say "might"... still working on it. **EDIT (12:12PM UTC-6, Oct/10/18):** Okay, might be able to hit Saturday. Fingers crossed. **EDIT (4:10PM UTC-6, Oct/16/18):** Chapter's done, but my beta reader hasn't been able to find the time to review it. Plus, _college... ugh..._~~
> 
> Chapter 10 will be another interlude chapter, this one set during a timeline between the events of 6 and 3. I'll tell you this much about it, but in the form of a rhetorical question: have you seen _Avengers: Infinity War?_
> 
> Chapter 11 will be bringing some new elements into the fray. It's still a ways off before this one'll be done, unfortunately for you.
> 
> 'Fore I go, I learned how to insert spoiler-hiding code thanks to [this AO3 pseudo-fic.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/952658/chapters/7044920) Might want to **_consider the ramifications of what that means..._**
> 
> ...if you're wondering where the spoilers are, hover your cursor over this sentence. If you're reading this on mobile, I would suggest finding a computer. (I personally wasn't able to get them to appear myself.)
> 
> * * *
> 
> In any case, see you around, folks! If you're enjoying this so far (and you haven't already done this), leave a Kudos, a comment, any of that good stuff. I like knowing that folks are enjoying what I've written.


	9. Spearhead

**Notes for the Chapter:**

>  _And there was a great sigh of relief as the author returned and the next chapter was_ finally _published on this, the 20th day of October 2018..._
> 
> Well, said sigh of relief is mostly on my end at least. If you've also been ~~im~~ patiently waiting for me to ~~hurry up already~~ finish writing this chapter, I hope this is worth the wait; if you're reading this for the first time, welcome. ( _I'm pretty sure that if you've read every chapter before this, then[you're probably getting sick of me saying "welcome".](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=scVJL19akH0)_ )
> 
> Okay, so, I've got something I want to discuss after this chapter. Enjoy and please stick around!

“Hello? Anyone out there? _Hello?_ ” Noah called out in a hoarse voice, exhausted from the past… was it an hour he'd been held captive? It was impossible to tell; his father's digital watch was still powerless and there likely weren't any spare batteries to be found anywhere. Certainly not on this mesa in the middle of the caldera he was presently wandering. How Noah ended up here was still a mystery. _Or am I just dreaming right now and I haven't realized it yet?_ Whatever the case, Noah felt weary from the overwhelming heat now barraging him. It was an arid heat, but it was still enough to force him to strip down to his T-shirt and jeans. Wrapped around his neck and torso bandolier-style was his hoodie and the jacket loaned from Toriel, all secured in a snug bundle. It seemed foolish to discard either, given how many climates seemed to be present in this cave. Noah still wondered just what had happened after that whole ordeal. _They’re both probably alright… but knowing what I know about Toriel, she probably yanked the kid back to the Ruins. If they weren't separated already, that is._

 _You know, I betcha they were._ _Oh, for the love of… why are_ you _still here?_ The laughter from his undesirable companion was like an annoying hyena at times. _Well, for one, Noah, I really do find you entertaining company to keep. You're cynical, you’re pragmatic, you tend not to care about what others think of you… you know, you truly remind me of myself in so very many ways._ _I’m not that much of a cynic. And you seem more the dramatic type than a pragmatic._ _Of course, I do. Keeping up an air of theatricality can be so entertaining. Deceive and destroy, confuse and conquer… it’s so practical to do when you’re toying with the very cosmos of the world._ _Oh, so you're some kind of mad god on your throne?_

Noah received a chuckle for his quip. _I suppose it wouldn't be inaccurate for me to take the moniker of_ God, _now would it?_ _Oh, now I_ know _I’m stuck in a dream! I’ve got a self-proclaimed god as a voice in my head. ‘Mad god’ would be more accurate though._ _Well, Mr. Motor Mouth, that’s your words doing the ego stroking, not mine. And keep denying reality all you want; I’m still here. Now, might I suggest watching your step?_ Noah looked down and recoiled back with a loud outburst; the voice laughed as soon as he did, for he nearly had stepped right off a cliff into the magma below. _I hate you._ _Don’t you think ‘hate’ seems such a needlessly strong word for a fairly minor inconvenience such as that?_ Noah stared at some nondescript feature in the distance. _How is falling into a_ magma pool _a_ ‘minor inconvenience’‽ _Well, when time can loop back with the tip of a hat, I would think it would only_ be _such. Besides, I know it's a fairly quick death anyway; you told me just as much_ the last time _it happened._

Noah was aghast and incredulous at the very thought of such a death, and having been able to report it; the voice simply laughed uproariously at Noah’s reaction. _Oh, man, you should see the look on your face! You're just like “Holy crap, that happened‽” and I just love it!_ _Of course you do. You're a_ sadist. _Once again, I enjoy a good bit of_ schadenfreude. _I’m not a pure sadist just for the sake of being such; there’s a method to what you would call my madness. And also, mind the steam vent._ _What steam vent?_ Noah quickly had his confusion solved, as a mobile latticework of pipes and ducts suddenly exhaled a boiling cloud of water vapor at him. Fortunately, he had stopped just short of its reach; a foot more and he would have been cooked. Quite literally as well. _That one. You're welcome._ The voice chuckled in amusement.

Noah was ever puzzled by his companion's behavior. He now stood still to better focus his attention, lest he wander into danger elsewhere. _Exactly why are you helping me while at the same time tormenting me?_ _Because I have wondrous plans in mind for you and all others present here; the torture, as you call it, is all a part of my opus._ Great... _that still doesn’t really explain why you’re helping me._ _Because every action has an ulterior motive of self-benefit, Noah. Helping a friend in need, only to expect that friend to reciprocate for your needs. Holding the door for someone, only to expect a reward later on, no matter how trivial such reward may seem. That is our nature, Noah; why deny it for some false ideal of altruistic self-sacrifice?_ _Some people find the happiness they get from their altruism to be all the reward they need._

The voice scoffed. _How those fools would turn from their ways once the truth of the world is shown to them. The truth of our entire existence, really. And despite your own history, you continue to doubt and deny it yourself. Ask yourself this: why were you on Ebott’s slope that fateful night? The night before time eternal claimed you for itself._ Noah grimaced, fully aware of where the conversation was heading and not enjoying the subject in the least. _For all your proclaimed godhood, you can’t figure it out yourself?_ _I already know the answer myself, Noah; ‘Felicity’, correct?_ Noah’s darkened silence was enough of a response. _You always kept her at the forefront of your thoughts. Perhaps a bit… perverted when you think about it, really. _ That’s enough. _ Oh, really? Then why have you taken this path? Care to explain why you would sacrifice so much? Not for you._

 _Perhaps we should start with your_ family history. _Let’s_ not. _ Why not? We’ve all the time in the world to talk about how wonderful your family was._ Noah’s eyes welted shut. _ Remind me, how’s _Cathy _doing?_ His hands trembled into unsteady fists. _ Oh, that’s right; how _did _that happen? Care to answer?_ Noah would not, unwilling to relive history. _Was it when_ you _broke her heart?_ His teeth gritted in furious denial. _You just had to be so_ selfish. _Your father–_ _He’s not my father._ The voice tutted. _Oh, Noah. Quibble over genetics all you wish, but what kind of person abandons the grieving? _ Noah collapsed to his knees, his face buried in his hands. _ And here you are, years later, watching a girl just as a wolf stalks its prey. What is it that you sought there at the summit, Noah? Redemption? Shut up. Lust? Shut. Up. Escape? For Christ’s sake, just _shut the hell up!

The voice clicked in disapproval, as it caused yet another headache to surface for Noah. _Temper,_ temper, _my dear child. I_ know _you were thinking of far stronger profanities to call upon than_ that, _Noah, but an ill temper and a venomous tongue are_ never _the product of genetic misfortune – as much as you and your ancestors may falsely claim and foolishly believe. No, they are begotten of a lack of_ discipline _and_ self-control. _Perhaps the guardsmen nearby might help you to learn to control yourself. Of course, this is provided that they don’t first send you to meet your family._ The fast-paced crunch of metal boots on gravel spooked Noah out of his entranced state as he whirled around looking for its source. He willed himself towards the precipice nearest to the source, taking great care to make as little noise as possible.

Running beneath him and off in the distance was a small group of soldiers in full medieval plate armor, probably twenty in number or thereabouts. Their armor was almost ashen gray in color and each was armed with various weapons from the same time period. Longswords cloaked in glinting silver and gold, six-meter-tall halberds with pennants fluttering in the air from the shafts, great warhammers with heads massive enough to pound in steel I-beam girders. Noah ducked down further into his hiding spot, noting that their pathway was leading them to right under his precipice. One – likely the leader, given the brilliant red plumage on its helmet – bore a short spear of simple construction and design. Curiously, it faintly glowed with a blue-white hue.

 _Is that spear magical or something? Yes, it is; I’m glad you can figure that out yourself._ “Wait, _halt!_ ” The troop halted in place with expert precision. Inconveniently for Noah, they stopped right below him. As the soldiers began to mill about, Noah took the time to note that some had tails, others had horns poking out of their helmets, and one even had large feathered wings of scarlet from its back. He also noted that these weapons looked very ornate for combat weapons, almost like ceremonial weapons but with all the effectiveness that a true weapon of war would have borne. _Kinda like Tolkien or something…_ “What’s that?” “It’s gotta be from a human.” Noah stopped breathing as a soldier stepped out of formation, kneeling to inspect some oddity in the gravel. The soldier plucked some object off the ground, holding it up for the rest of his group to see; Noah couldn’t identify what it was. “Orders, Captain?”

The captain – or who Noah assumed to be the captain – walked towards the soldier, inspecting the object as well. “There’s definitely one around here. I'll handle it myself.” The voice threw Noah for a loop; it was markedly feminine. Not the refined, graceful tone that Toriel had, nor that of an enchanting ‘femme fatale’ that could easily disarm any unaware aggressors, nor even the gruff tone of a retired drill sergeant that Noah had once met in his past travels. ‘Tomboyish big sister’ was the best description he could proffer. “Are you sure, ma’am?” “Yeah, I got this, Fawkes. Take these guys and keep sweeping back towards the Ruins. If you find the other humans, push them back; don’t let any of them get past you.”

“You got it, Captain!” The winged soldier jumped off the walkway and glided towards a darkened area away from the magma fields. The other soldiers started marching towards a cliff, not stopping much to Noah's incredulity. But what was even more surprising was that a white platform made of what seemed like solid light suddenly extended away from the soldiers, letting them walk above the magma and towards the same area where the soldier named Fawkes was leading them. The captain remained kneeling for a moment as they stormed away to wherever they were headed. Noah remained flush to the gravel on his overhanging ledge, watching the captain and willing his breath to near-silence. The captain breathed in and out deeply, likely meditating on something at the moment.

Strangely, Noah’s vision went to monochrome just like before, with the exception of that soft green glow once again. _Gee, I wonder where_ this _has happened before…_ Noah’s eyes dilated in horror as he glanced to his side, noting the same green cartoon heart as before. _Oh,_ crap… “Human, you can stop staring at me now.” _Wait, how did–_ Before Noah could react, the captain suddenly leapt up past Noah's hiding spot, roaring with a sudden fury. Noah quickly rolled aside, grunting as the igneous rock chips beneath him jabbed at his torso and arms. It would likely have been far less painful than the multiple spear shafts that slammed into where he had been, each glowing a brilliant cyan hue. _Wait, didn’t she have just the one‽ Magic spears, Noah. _Ma-gic.

Noah now found himself on his back, breathing heavily as he stared at a circle floating in the air, colored the same hue as the spears. Except, the circle suddenly began to grow much larger. Noah barely had time to move his head over as the spear impacted right next to his ear. Noah scrambled to his feet, his exhaustion giving way to an adrenaline spike as he started running up and across a natural rock span over a pool of magma. Before Noah could proceed any further, a salvo of spears impacted in front of him; his forward momentum sent him face first into the gravel, but he quickly pushed himself up and turned around. The captain was slowly pressing him further up the arch, spear in a thrust-ready position. Despite the incline of the arch, Noah had to look up to inspect the helm more closely.

Unfortunately, the natural illumination of the magma only made the captain seem that much more imposing. “ _Seven._ ” There was a pause. “ _Seven human souls._ With the power of seven human souls, our king, Asgore Dreemurr, will become a _god._ With that power, Asgore can _finally_ shatter the Barrier. He will _finally_ take the Surface back from humanity, and give them back the suffering and pain that we have endured.” The captain paused briefly as if to emphasize the severity of her soliloquy. “ _Understand, human?_ This is your _only_ chance at redemption. Give up your soul, or I’ll tear it from your body.”

Noah wasn’t quite sure about any of what the captain had said, except for the last part. Despite the quasi-religious tones, it was mostly understood; there were only so many ways to say ‘surrender or die’ after all. “Any options where I don’t die?” “I don’t think so, human. Now… _Make. Your. Choice._ ” Noah checked his surroundings, hoping that she was wrong; unfortunately, it appeared that she wasn’t with regards to a quick escape. There was another idea that slowly popped into his head though; a clichéd idea that was more likely to backfire on him than not, but an idea nonetheless. _Really?_ He glanced behind the captain, eyes widening in mock anticipation. “ Do it _now!_ ” The captain didn’t spin around as Noah half-heartedly expected, but she did thrust the butt of her spear behind her to ward off whatever threat Noah had suggested was present.

“ _Really?_ That’s the–” But her remark about the ‘oldest trick in the book’ was interrupted by the fact that her spear went much further than she had likely intended. Noah watched in disbelief as her left arm was yanked by the spear shaft, her forearm slammed into her mid-torso, and she spun to the ground in an awkward, high-torque somersault. Her spear left her grip and flew off into the distance, as a yelp of surprise and a clamor of plate armor on gravel were the only noises the captain made on her descent. “ …what?” Noah’s companion broke into wild hysterics of laughter as Noah dithered; he was unsure if he should have broken into laughter himself, made a break for the new opening he now had or collapse to the ground due to exhaustion. Noah picked the second option, hurdling over the captain and running back towards the top of the mesa with a gait solely fueled by adrenaline and the possibility of evading the pursuit. “ _Hey, you! Get back here!_ ”

The only word in Noah’s mind after the captain’s demand was a slurred frenzy of ‘no’ repeated ad nauseam as he looked for any other walkways he could use. Preferably any which weren’t governed by power sources or magical constructs. Before he could continue, another flurry of spears suddenly encircled and blockaded him on top of the mesa. Noah spun around to find the captain staring him down from the archway, another spear in hand and ready to kill him where he stood. “Seven.” There was another pause. _Another monologue, great…_ “Seven human souls and King Asgore will become a god.”

The captain looked away towards some other location for some kind of dramatic effect; whatever effect it had was fully lost on an impatient and apathetic Noah. “Six. That’s how many we–” “Just get it over with, lady.” The captain paused, more than likely expecting some display of arrogant pride than that of irritation. “You know what? You got a point! Why should I keep telling you our story _when you’re gonna die anyway‽_ ” _Oooo, this is gonna be good… I think you’ll– Shut up!_ The captain charged at Noah, screaming like a berserker of old as her spearhead trained onto Noah. 

He wasn’t expecting the captain to faceplant and send her spear skittering erratically towards him.

 _I was going to say that you were going to enjoy this. Eh… _sure… Noah was unsure whether to laugh at the comical failures of the captain or grimace at her apparent ineptness. His companion, however, held no such inhibitions and was fully engrossed snickering at the captain’s expense. The spear bounced erratically, clanging as a physical metal spear would have, but it came to a stop at Noah’s feet, still glowing with the same electric blue that the captain’s other spears did before dissipating. The captain pushed herself back up, briefly disoriented until she shook her head out and focused on Noah once again. “What the hell are you? Some kind of prankster mage?” The deadpan stare from Noah would have been enough to convince her otherwise – _should_ have been enough, but she waited for an answer anyway.

“ _Uh–_ ” She leveled an accusing finger, fully ensconced in armor. “I knew it! How else would you explain the fact that you got past the sentries in Snowdin?” Noah’s hesitancy didn’t quite sell as well as he had hoped; the captain simply laughed dismissively and reached for her helmet, taking mere seconds to remove it. Owing to adrenaline, it hadn’t previously occurred to Noah to think about the captain’s physical appearance and how she might have differed from Toriel, Sans or the others that he’d met, including Flowey and… he still didn’t have a name for the dog guy. So it came as a slight shock to Noah when he saw the face of a blue-skinned humanoid with gills on her neck, fins for ‘ears’, and a smiling shark’s maw of teeth. A singular golden eye focused on him, the other eye – her left – covered by a black patch of cloth.

“I still want to see just how tough humans are. Alphys always told me that humans were determined. Guess I’ll see just _how_ determined they can be!” A shaft of blue suddenly formed in her right hand as her left stretched forward with a bright blue-green glow surrounding it. Noah ducked out of the way, fully expecting a fireball. “ _What‽_ That should have… you’re _already_ green? _What the hell‽_ ” Noah didn’t have time to think about what she had said; he was too focused on dodging the plethora of spears being hurled by the now-roaring captain. Sidestep here, jump to over there, and a myriad of other brief maneuvers to defend against being turned into a pincushion. _Have you considered taking up dancing for a career? Shut up, you’re not helping!_

Almost to prove his point, he dived to narrowly miss a tight quartet of spears aimed for his torso. Yet another spear flew towards him with yet another forceful yell from the captain, this one, however, was colored gold for whatever reason. Noah barely sidestepped out of the way just in time. Suddenly, he felt something ram into his upper spine, knocking him to the ground face first. “Finally!” Noah heard armor crushing gravel underfoot as the captain walked up to his exhausted body. He felt himself being rolled over onto his back, the gravel painfully stabbing at where he’d been hit. “Heh, you don’t look so good there, punk.” A series of key tones beeped as the captain attempted to contact someone. “Hey, Alphys, you got any cameras over by, uh, where am I again… …yeah, I suppose I could have just used the map on this thing. …or you can do that. Anyway, cameras near me: yes or no? …okay, do you see what–”

There was a loud scream as this ‘Alphys’ most likely spotted Noah. _Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, wait…_ what? _Hold on a second, Noah. _ “What?” Noah was too exhausted to differentiate between his mind and his tongue, but the voice did not reply; the soft droning buzz that accompanied its presence faded from his ears as well. “Settle down there, Al; I’m fine, and the human’s not getting up any time soon.” _Great, she’s talking to a mad scientist, isn’t she?_ Noah still didn’t receive any response. He grunted in pain as the captain prodded him with her boot. “I think I’ll be dropping him off at the barracks. He doesn’t seem like much of a fighter, but I’m sticking a few guards on him anyway. Still have that other one to deal with, and we don’t have any intel either.”  Frisk? _Is she still out there?_

“Remind me, but are humans supposed to look this beat up? I know the red stuff’s supposed to be blood but–” Noah flinched, not enjoying the apparent fact that he was bleeding from whatever wounds had been inflicted on him. “…got it, Al, I’ll bring him over right away then. I, uh, forgot to bring a container with me. …whaddya mean, _‘be gentle’‽_ What, with a _human?_  They’re all gonna _die_ anyway once– … _‘run some tests’?_ What kind of tests would–” There was an extended pause, as the captain listened. Noah suddenly felt queasy thinking about what kind of tests they’d be doing on him; he studied first aid in the past precisely to avoid any kind of hospital trips, and that was for _human_ hospitals. “…alright, got it. Sounds like a plan.”

Noah felt his arms as they were cuffed with cold metal; the captain hoisted him up by the same cuff, then spun him around with his arms now placed up by his head. “So, _punk,_ we’re going for a little walk. _Losers first._ ” She chuckled harshly, as she roughly nudged him forward, her helmet donned and covering her face once again. Noah suddenly felt extraordinarily tired, as the last traces of adrenaline in his bloodstream decayed. His vision starting fading to monochrome as he felt himself tilting and falling forward. “Hey, hey, _hey!_ ” Noah looked onward at the gravel that was formerly underneath his feet, as it ran up-and-down relative to his vision; he didn’t even feel any pain from slumping to the ground like that.

“Damn it, you’d better not be dying on me right now, punk!” The gray blobs in Noah’s vision and the voice ringing in his ears soon faded as he was granted a reprieve from consciousness. Once again, Noah found himself floating in a black mindscape, oblivious to reality for the time being. 

_ Finally… I’m going to wake up from this dream now… right? _

_ …what, no quips about that from you? _

_…hey, you still there or not?_ But no one replied.

* * *

Toriel and Frisk meandered through the forest, the former wary of their surroundings, and the latter admiring the same. Forestry was not common where Frisk lived on the surface save for on the opposite face of Mt. Ebott; unfortunately for Frisk’s rampant curiosity, there were several park rangers who would frequently escort her out of the area and back to her family. Often times, the stern admonishments that the rangers gave to both her and her family fell on deaf ears. Only one of the rangers ever seemed to take note of both this and the frequency with which Frisk visited. _“ Hey, kid, don’t you have anything better to do?”_ Frisk could only vaguely remember what the guard sounded like, the memory subtle but persistent.

The duo happened across a cardboard box with what had to have been a window carved out of one side there. There was a placard underneath the window, bearing an odd yet rather elaborate style of handwriting. It was convoluted enough that Frisk couldn’t immediately decipher what it said. Toriel stooped down to inspect the writing herself, smiling and chuckling softly once she’d read it. “I do believe this is from Papyrus.” Frisk took a second look at the words, now noticing a certain style to the handwriting. Humorously enough, it was a narration of whoever happened to be inspecting the cardboard box, describing it as a ‘well-crafted sentry station’ built by a soon-to-be ‘very famous royal guardsman’.

Frisk heard a muted chuckle from the voice in her head; ‘Kiara’, as the voice called itself, obviously found something interesting. _What is it? __It’s been a while since you last stopped at Papyrus’ station; I still get a chuckle out of what he wrote._ _ He’s goofy, isn’t he? __Hard to take him seriously, isn’t it?_ Kiara’s somewhat redolent tone was slightly unnerving. _Um, a little? Is Toriel right? __As far as I’m aware, no. I’m not trying to trip you up, Frisk; don’t doubt yourself like that._ Frisk loitered in thought for a moment more. _Should I ask her? __About those two? I don’t see why not._ “ Toriel?” “Yes, little one? What is it?” “Why did you say there was more to Sans and Papyrus?” Toriel grimaced. “Just a peculiar feeling that I have.” “Why?” There was some discernible hesitancy. “Perhaps… it is best that we not continue this discussion right now.” “Okay.”

Frisk calmly watched as Toriel stood up to her full height once more, and walked onward towards wherever Sans had pointed them. There appeared to be another sentry station here, except this one appeared to be official and currently staffed. _Are we in danger? __Nah. Although the guard might be._ _ Why’s that? __Whose hand are you holding?_ Frisk noted that while the hand she was holding didn’t have a flame, Toriel’s other hand was tensed and wreathed in a subtle blue-white flame. _Oh. __Heh… so much for discretion._ Frisk didn’t comment, for Toriel suddenly stopped, likewise clenching Frisk’s hand to get her to stop as well. “Did something move?” The owner of the gruff voice – a monster with the features of a dog – stood up from his reclined chair, something clenched in his teeth and emitting a thin trail of smoke. “Don’t move an–”

Unfortunately for the dog, Toriel was rather trigger-happy. The dog noticed her arm winding up, and started to unsheathe a weapon; the resulting fireball forced him to dive for cover. “ _Do not touch my child._ ” Toriel’s voice was cold and calculated; the dog made no sudden attempt to leave his cover, opting instead to slowly show his hands in surrender, each holding a dagger which he promptly set on the lintel of his station. “Got it.” The guard’s voice was much meeker now. Toriel and Frisk walked past, both calmly watching the guard’s hands as the rest of his body remained out of sight. _Frisk… don’t–_ _Don’t what? __You were going to ask her if she had to do that._ _ …that’s kinda creepy how you knew that. __Well, I’ve been stuck with you for a long time._ _ Oh… right. __Forgot?_ _ Kinda. Sorry. __Don’t worry about it, Frisk; you’re good. We’re just relearning how to work together._ _ Okay. So, why wouldn’t I want to ask Toriel about… oh. __Figured it out?_ _ Noah? __Bingo._ _ I forgot about him… how did I forget? __Well, lots of weird stuff going on. Weird even by_ my _standards, I’d say._

The duo soon came across another clearing, this one containing a frozen pond. In the middle of the pond was a small island with yet another signpost; Toriel did not step on the ice, instead attempting to read the sign from afar. _Could I walk on the ice?_ _It’ll hold you, but you’re gonna be sliding instead of walking._ True to Kiara’s word, it only took a quick stomp and a couple steps for Frisk to confirm that statement; she slid forward towards the signpost and calmly stepped off the ice once she had made it. She looked back to find Toriel absentmindedly testing the ice herself; she was still watching for any sign of danger.

 _How about Toriel; could she make it?_ _Probably, but she’d probably just walk around the pond anyway. Read the sign yet?_ It was a directory of sorts, listing what could be found in each cardinal direction, as well as listing each direction. In all four cases, ice was said to be found, although there was also a ‘Snowdin Town’ to the east. _Hrm… I wonder if–_ “ you gals lost?” “Oh, _heavens!_ ” Frisk looked over and found that Toriel was catching her breath, Sans having apparently sneaked up behind her; the question of how he’d managed to do so was hard to answer. How Toriel hadn’t thrown a fireball at him was another question entirely. “Sans, must you do that?” “oh, uh, sorry about spooking you there, toriel. couldn’t resist.” “I’m sure.” Toriel smirked while Sans winked knowingly; it was probably his way of smirking, given how his mouth seemed to be a permanent grin.

“Which way were we supposed to go? East?” “yeah, that’d be the way. also, think i saw noah that way as well.” “Really?” Frisk beamed with excitement. “yep. figured you’d like that bit of news. he sure knows how to slip away from people.” Frisk grinned mischievously while Toriel chuckled. “You certainly seem to enjoy comedy very much.” “i like it, plus it helps pay the bills. well, i’ll see you both up ahead.” Once again, Sans preceded to walk towards the west, instead of the east where he had directed them towards. _Why does he do that?_ _Believe me, I’ve been wondering about that ever since I first noticed, and I’ve never been able to figure it out._ _ Really? How long ago was that?_ _When I first met noticed? Uh… I lost count._ _…alright then._

Frisk slid across the pond to the other side, stepping off just as before. She turned around to find Toriel hurriedly walking around the ice. _You weren’t kidding, were you? __Nope._ Kiara laughed warmly, while Frisk smiled pleasantly at Toriel. As soon as Toriel reached the side of the ice where Frisk was, they departed once more. And once again, the pair found themselves face to face with Sans and Papyrus. The two duos were on opposite sides of a square of densely packed snow. It was smoothed over like a patch of ice, but it was dull and devoid of glare, almost like a concrete slab. Frisk, however, was more interested in how Sans had managed to, once again, end up in front of them despite going the wrong way. “ How did–” “IN ORDER TO STOP BOTH OF YOU, MY BROTHER AND I HAVE CREATED SOME PUZZLES! SANS THINKS YOU WILL FIND THIS ONE QUITE SHOCKING! FOR YOU SEE–” “ _‘Shocking’?_ ”

Toriel coldly stared at Sans, even as Papyrus continued to smile rather obliviously. “EXCUSE ME, NOT-A-HUMAN, WOULD YOU MIND IF I FINISH PLEASE?” Toriel relented, if briefly; Papyrus cleared his throat in an overly dramatic and lengthy fashion. “NOW THEN, YOU SEE, THIS IS THE INVISIBLE ELECTRICITY MAZE! WHEN YOU TOUCH THE WALLS OF THIS MAZE…” He held up a blue spheroid of unknown material. “…THIS ORB WILL ADMINISTER A HEARTY ZAP! SOUND LIKE FUN?” Frisk wanted to shake her head in fervent abnegation. Papyrus nervously chuckled. “BECAUSE THE AMOUNT OF FUN THAT YOU WILL PROBABLY HAVE… IS ACTUALLY RATHER SMALL, I THINK. OKAY, YOU CAN GO AHEAD NOW.” Toriel didn’t budge a step, and it took a few seconds for Frisk to muster the courage to try.

Although it only took a couple of steps for Frisk to suddenly stop. She must have triggered some kind of sensor, because Papyrus suddenly jumped into the air, golden sparks of electricity flickering off of his entire body. The orb in his hand glowed with the same color that the sparks gave off. Frisk chuckled softly as he landed on the ground with smoke trailing off of him. His expression was one of confusion at first, although it quickly switched to frustration as his head swiveled to face Sans, who was still smiling as usual. Except you could tell that Sans was fairly amused by the display. “SANS! WHAT DID YOU DO‽” The snow underneath Papyrus’ boots was crushed by his barrage of stomping. “i think one of them has to hold the orb.” “OH. OKAY.”

Papyrus started to walk around the snow patch, but curiously, he stepped into the maze area. Frisk stared in disbelief, briefly glancing at Toriel, who was also stupefied by the sight. Papyrus walked the full course of the maze, oblivious to the fact entirely. He stopped right at the beginning of the maze, directly in front of Frisk. “HOLD THIS PLEASE!” Despite the fact that he was less than three feet away from Frisk, he continued to use his full voice. For whatever reason, he tossed the orb upward, and it slowly descended into Frisk’s waiting hands as he walked back. _Kiara? Did he really– __Yep._ _ …is he– __Were you going to say ‘stupid?’_ _ …yes? __He’s more like a savant than anything, Frisk; brilliant and talented in his own… eccentric ways._

“OKAY, TRY NOW!” Frisk was jarred out of her internal conversation; if anyone could be a living megaphone, Papyrus was just the person. She walked along the path made by Papyrus, pretending to prod at “walls” with her foot as she navigated the maze. She turned back to look at Toriel, who was following behind her, still staring at Sans and Papyrus with a look of sheer perplexment. Frisk soon finished the maze without a single error; it helped that Papyrus had left his footprints on the correct path. “INCREDIBLE! YOU SLIPPERY SNAILS! YOU SOLVED IT SO EASILY… TOO EASILY…” His pensive stare suddenly brightened into joviality. “HOWEVER! THE NEXT PUZZLE WILL NOT BE EASY! IT IS DESIGNED BY MY BROTHER, SANS!”

Papyrus gestured wildly towards Sans, who merely shrugged in acknowledgement. “YOU WILL BOTH SURELY BE CONFOUNDED! I KNOW I AM! NYEH HEH HEH HEH HEH!” Papyrus walked backwards towards Snowdin Town. Frisk and Toriel both watched briefly as he left, then turned to face Sans, quizzical expressions telling him enough about their respective mental states. “hey, thanks. seems like he’s having fun. by the way, did you notice that outfit of his?” “Is there a story behind it?” “yep. made that a few weeks ago for a costume party. hasn’t worn anything else since; keeps calling it his ‘battle body’. man… isn’t my brother cool?” “He’s certainly an entertainer like you.” “well, we’re brothers. must run in the family, I s’pose.”

Frisk chuckled; somehow, picturing Sans and Papyrus as a comedy duo was an interesting idea. “Say, did you tell him to make that pun? The ‘shocking’ one? I thought he hated puns.” “oh, yeah, i did. just wait and listen a sec…” All three remained silent, hearing nothing but the wind blowing about softly. Curiously, Frisk thought she could hear something in the distance from where Papyrus had gone. A couple seconds passed as that ‘something’ was soon more audible. “SAAAAAAAAAANS!” Had Papyrus been on a snow-capped mountain, there most likely would have been an avalanche immediately afterward. “there he goes.”

Sans chuckled. “only took him…” He glanced at his wrist, still covered with a glove and not bearing an obvious watch on it. “…a minute and a half.” “You time his reactions?” Toriel chuckled. “eh, not on purpose. once, he went a full day without realizing i’d made a pun.” “What was the pun?” “updog.” “What’s ‘updog’?” Kiara groaned, while Toriel suddenly started laughing and Sans grinned even brighter than usual. _What? What’s ‘updog’? __Just think about it, Frisk._ It took a few seconds, and then a few more, but soon Frisk was laughing at Sans’ clichéd pun. “ That was cheap.” “well, you did laugh at it.” Sans winked again; he was obviously teasing Frisk about her brief lack of wariness. “…yeah, I did, didn’t I?” “well, you two should probably get going then. I’ll see you both ahead.” Once again, he walked off in the opposite direction, much to Frisk’s chagrin.

“How are you doing that?” “doing what?” Sans stopped and turned around, eyebrows raised in intrigue. “You walk that way, and you end up ahead of us. How do you do that?” “…shortcuts.” “What kind of shortcuts?” “the short kind.” Sans walked backwards, his perpetual smile being supplemented with a mischievous shrug. Frisk merely sighed; there seemed no way of forcing a straight answer out of that comedian. Not at this present moment, at least. “Shall we continue on, little one?” “Yeah.” The duo proceeded on their way, passing through various clearings. Their path winded through what looked like a golf course, with the “fairway” being more of that tightly-packed snow like the maze prior. There was even a hole and a decently sized snow ball nearby. _That’s actually not a ball._ _ Why do you say that? __Balls don’t have faces like a cube._

Upon closer inspection, Frisk found that Kiara was right: it wasn’t a ball as she had first thought; it had twelve sides, all of which were flat. _So… what is it then? __It’s actually a dodecahedron. Or a ‘snow-decahedron’._ Frisk blinked slowly, the pun completely flying over her head. _Get it?_ _ I… think? __Eh, being stuck in a time loop helps… with…_ Kiara went silent all of a sudden. _What is it? __Do you hear that?_ _ Hear what? __Sounds like… nah, I must be hearing things._ _ Why do you say that? __Because you didn’t hear it, and judging from Toriel’s lack of reaction, she didn’t hear it either._ _ Well, what was it? __Sounded like… strangely enough, sounded like an old friend of ours._ _ Do I know them? __Not yet._

Frisk sighed. _Time travel’s weird. __At least you got a mnemonic reset to help you out._ _ I’m still not a dictionary, you know. __Mnemonic means “relating to memory.” You’ve forgotten the past timelines; that’s a mnemonic reset._ _ Thanks. __No problem._ _ So… is that a good thing?_ Kiara didn’t respond immediately, likely preferring to plan a course of dialogue. _Honestly, Frisk, I really don’t know. You can ask me that question a thousand times more and for all my knowledge, I still couldn’t give you a good answer._ _ Is it a really hard question? __Ethics and philosophy are not easy topics. Just ask Noah. Well, the next time you see him, anyway._ “ HUMAN AND NOT-A-HUMAN!” Frisk half-jumped at the sound of Papyrus’ voice. “I HOPE YOU’RE BOTH READY FOR…”

Papyrus paused, staring at what had to have been Sans’ “puzzle”, which was a simple piece of laminated paper on the packed snow. “SANS! WHERE’S THE PUZZLE‽” “it’s right there. on the ground. trust me, there’s no way they can get past this one.” Frisk walked up to the paper and picked it up, deciding to play along for Papyrus’ sake. It looked like a crossword puzzle, but one of the words was complete gibberish. _Don’t ask me to try pronouncing that one._ “Little one, what kind of puzzle is it?” Frisk handed the paper to Toriel. It only took a few seconds before Toriel pulled the paper away from her face with a baffled look. “I do not think that this puzzle can even be solved…” Frisk grabbed Toriel by her arm and pulled her along. “ SANS! THAT DIDN’T DO ANYTHING!” “whoops. i knew i should have used today’s crossword instead.” “WHAT‽ CROSSWORD‽ I CAN’T BELIEVE YOU SAID THAT! IN MY OPINION, JUNIOR JUMBLE IS EASILY THE HARDEST.” “what? really, dude? that easy-peasy word scramble? that’s for baby bones.”

Papyrus’ face suggested otherwise. “UN. BELIEVABLE. WOULD YOU TWO PLEASE SOLVE THIS DISPUTE? WHICH IS HARDER: JUNIOR JUMBLE OR CROSSWORD?” Frisk shrugged; she’d never heard of ‘Junior Jumble’, and while she had heard of crossword puzzles, she never expressed much interest in trying one. Toriel, on the other hand, seemed to know the answer. “I would have to say crosswords are harder.” “YOU AND SANS ARE WEIRD. CROSSWORDS ARE SO EASY; IT’S THE SAME SOLUTION EVERY TIME. I JUST FILL ALL THE BOXES WITH THE LETTER ‘Z’ BECAUSE EVERY TIME I LOOK AT A CROSSWORD, ALL I CAN DO IS SNORE!” Papyrus’ trademark laughter trailed behind him as he left this particular clearing.

Toriel looked at Sans, some confusion present on her face; Sans seemed to pick up on whatever unspoken question she had. “papyrus… finds difficulty in interesting places. yesterday, he got stumped trying to ‘solve’ the horoscope.” “Oh, goodness.” Toriel chuckled briefly. “He’s very… unique, isn’t he?” “he’s my bro. unless there’s some long-lost relative of ours, he’s the only one i’ll ever have. can you blame me for caring?” Toriel smiled warmly, perhaps mulling over those words rather deeply. “No, I don’t suppose I can.” “thanks. well, you two should probably get going. i’ll be ahead waiting.” Once again, he walked in the other direction as Toriel and Frisk went forward. His ‘shortcuts’, though still mysterious, were starting to become less of a distraction and more of a mundane expectancy.

The next clearing, however, had something Frisk wasn’t expecting to see. On top of more hard-packed snow, there were two tables here with four items around them: two platters of what looked like spaghetti, a sheet of paper with more of Papyrus’ handwriting, and a microwave oven with ‘spaghetti’ as the only quick-heating option. The note invited both Frisk and Toriel to enjoy the spaghetti, then further described it as a trap to prevent them from progressing. Papyrus’ blunt honesty was simultaneously endearing and humorous to Frisk, although unfortunately, his cooking was not able to withstand the cold, having become a frozen bulk of pasta and sauce on both plates. The plates themselves were frozen to the table, and there was a fork that was half-buried in each mass. _‘Whoso pulleth out this fork of this spaghetti, is rightwise king born of all pasta.’_

Frisk choked back her laughter at such an inane and random comment. _What was that‽ __Eh, figured I’d try that one out. Sure, it’s old for me, but for you? It’s rather pleasant to see how you react to that for the, ahem, ‘first’ time._ “What’s so funny, little one?” Frisk continued to snicker, even as Toriel stared at her intently with a puzzled smile on her face, the kind you would expect after witnessing a faux pas of some sort. _‘Have you heard of King Arthur?’_ “ ‘Have you heard of King Arthur?’” Toriel thought briefly, before chuckling herself. “I think I see what you found so amusing now.” She walked onward but stopped at a particular clump of trees on the south side of the path. _This is new…_ “ Toriel?” “I think…” She waited only briefly, before she turned to face Frisk, her eyes alight with some excitement. “Of all the… this way, little one!” _What?_ “ What? But aren’t we–” “I know this path! Come with me, little one!”

Toriel hurriedly scooped up Frisk into her arms, then started walking at a crisp pace into the forest itself. “I thought you said you didn’t know the forest!” “The path we were on has been cleared out. This was a path I used to take many years ago, although it has since been left to disuse.” Frisk ducked her head out of the way of an oncoming branch, only for Toriel to hold it aside as they went past. _This had to have been… well, after my time, anyway._ _ ‘After your time’? _And _we’re moving on from that one!_ _ No, we’re not. __At least until later then?_ _ Fine. But I’m still getting some answers. __You’ll have them, Frisk. Just don’t freak out, and you’ll have them._ _ You sure? __Positive._ Frisk sighed in acceptance. _Well, let’s see where Toriel’s taking us then…_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright, brass tacks. Short and simple version? I am looking for a new beta reader. Why? Because I like having a second pair of eyes and my current beta reader has said that they are unable to assist as often as desired. Which, given their personal situation and other prior commitments, is understandable. They're still able to assist to a degree, but unfortunately, it won't be nearly as frequently as it was in the past. 
> 
> Anyway, it's on a volunteer basis, and it's literally just looking at my drafts for any issues with grammar, literary credibility, incongruities, or simply just me being stupid. In case my prior ranting hasn't made it clear, I absolutely _**loathe**_ low quality. If you're interested, drop a comment or  shoot me an email. I'm not looking for a resume, but just someone who can communicate effectively, has a good grasp of writing, will not be a [yes-man,](https://www.merriam-webster.com/dictionary/yes-man) and who's just as passionate for this work as I am.
> 
> Yes, there's spoiler text in there.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Anyway, regarding the chapter itself, there's a couple things I'll note. I don't think the Captain's so klutzy, not to mention I think that "green attack" of hers should have worked... any thoughts on why that may be the case? Also, if you've been paying attention to the font colors, you'll notice that _something_ happened. Even without having noticed the colors, you likely noticed it anyway just by the dialogue.
> 
> Also, as far as Chapter 10 goes... ~~I'll probably have it done by Halloween. Although~~ given the above, we'll see. In any case, hope you've enjoyed this so far and see y'all around! **EDIT [11/16/2018 8:45PM UTC-7]: Getting there... probably publish two days from now or thereabouts...**
> 
> * * *
> 
> Hey, look! Five months since the first chapter! 200 hits too. Anyone else curious to know if 300 hits could happen?


	10. Interlude - Knifepoint

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Why is it that it seems to require a holiday break for me to make _any_ kind of progress on this now?
> 
> Sorry for the wait, folks. [Still looking for a new beta reader](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14675049/chapters/38251391#chapter_9_endnotes) and college is never a constant frat party like Hollywood oft portrays it. [_At least it's hasn't been a full month since the last update..._](https://pics.me.me/internal-screaming-me-20881796.png)
> 
> Also, you've more than like already heard about it by now, but Toby Fox has gone and done it again: [_DELTARUNE_](https://www.polygon.com/2018/10/31/18044640/deltarune-free-download-undertale-game). It's Undertale 2.0, except it's not a sequel, it's a  spiritual... successor... precursor... _thingy_. Regardless, it's free; go play it if you've got a few spare hours to kill. Assuming you haven't already.
> 
>  _Anyway,_ **onward!** Chapter 10 finally awaits you!

“ _Get in here! Now!_ ” The guard’s voice echoed with steeled grit as he hurried several more civilians to the freight elevator. He soon clambered in before he quickly slammed the doors shut. The elevator's decrepit drive system painfully screamed as time-tortured metal scraped against similarly corroded metal and the elevator made best speed towards its destination. Most of the occupants were huddled in silence, completely unnerved by the devastation that was being wrought ever closer to their homes.

The reports had been scattered, but apparently, the demon that had literally cut a swath through the ranks of the populace was already killing folks in the caldera left and right. It wouldn’t be long before it reached the capital and decimated everyone foolish or unlucky enough to still be there. Even the Captain of the Royal Guard had fallen, but not without an impressive fight. _For one, she actually took more than one hit from the–_ “Yo! Are we gonna be okay now?” The guard turned to face the child who had spoken. It belonged to a young saurian monster wearing a striped sweater. Although the young boy had no arms, his tail compensated for the alleged deficit: a small bindle of various foodstuffs was secured to the end of his tail.

“Asgore will stop the beast; he has _six human souls_ at his command. Even _one_ will suffice. Don’t worry about it too much, kid. What’s your name?” The child laughed. “Yo, dude, you just said it! My name’s ‘Kidd’! That’s _so_ cool how you guessed my name like that!” The guard chuckled briefly; even in their escape from a malevolent mass murderer, a small dose of light-heartedness like this was a breath of fresh air. “Well, it was a lucky guess, ‘Kidd’.” Kidd nodded in affirmation, even as the elevator rattled on to its destination. It was an old cargo elevator that led directly to the Royal Scientist’s subbasement laboratories. The access point normally was locked down tight for unknown reasons, but given the severity of the evacuation, every alternative had to be mulled over and acted upon with haste.

The current acting captain had been calling any surviving guards, informing them to bring as many survivors as possible with them to the subbasement. _“And for the love of God, don’t be an idiot and try to attack the damned thing!”_ Although given how quickly the chain of command had been progressively slaughtered, it was hard to believe anyone would be so foolish to disregard the latter command. He had also mentioned that every survivor should note that there were things in the subbasement to be aware of, but his cryptic comments about how ‘ _our ancestors are locked in determination_ ’ were too difficult to unravel. It also didn’t help that there was a strict notice about radio silence regarding the evacuation routes; nothing was to be said about where everyone was hiding or how they got there, lest the demon figure out how to get there. It seemed to actively seek out any nearby survivors instead of killing whomever it happened to stumble upon. That behavior became even more pronounced as it progressed onward on its murderous rampage.

The elevator itself racketed and clanged along, its disuse and decay evident to all onboard. Fortunately, it was meant for far heavier and bulkier loadings than the twenty monsters aboard it presently, and what decay was present was cosmetic in nature. While the civilians were, for the most part, too shell-shocked by the devastation to be able to react, the guard kept a steeled façade trained on the opening of the elevator. It was mostly for their sake that he kept it up; he too was sorely distraught by the casualties of the day. The only source of any true comfort came from Kidd, as he conversed with some of the younger children, telling them about how the captain was so heroic and so resilient that she had shrugged off a fatal blow meant for himself, and simply told him that she’d “take care of this”. Fortunately for his sake and for the sake of his audience, the child did not witness her second wind or her horrific demise as the demon skillfully evaded her spears and cut her down with no discernable effort.

_“This world… will live on!”_

And then her body quickly disintegrated, her armor corroded just as rapidly, and every physical trace of her existence was gone, blown away on the howling wind. Silently, the guard hoped that the captain’s last scream of defiance would hold true. So far though, it looked as if that would never be the case.

* * *

“ _Gh…_ guess you don’t want to join my fan club?”

There was an explosion where the speaker had once stood, a smoldering heap of metallic debris lay scattered around the platform. “Sorry, but I’m afraid I don’t have time for _your_ fan club. I have _my own_ to run, you know. ” Footsteps echoed on the vinyl dance floor as the second speaker walked past the remains of the first and towards the exit. It looked much like a child dressed in a sweater and jeans, absent-mindedly holding a small revolver that looked much like a toy. The dense plume of smoke from the muzzle indicated otherwise as the demon blew out the muzzle, spun the gun in hand and dropped it into its matching holster. 

“Six shots, and _still_ you didn’t even need the _one_ I used. _Pathetic._ ” “He never gave me much trouble either.” “Is that so?” “Yep! Well, you’re _finally_ home! Remember when we used to play here?” “ Of course.” The demon’s accomplice giggled. “Boy, today’s gonna be _just_ as fun!” “ Of that, I have no doubt.” Footprints echoed in the long corridor circumnavigating the capital. So too did the sound of earth and tile silently moving aside for Flowey as he “walked” alongside the demon. “A question for you, actually…” “What’s that?” “I don’t suppose you happen to know where everyone went to hide, do you?”

Flowey was about to speak, but his speech was suspended as he started to deeply ponder the thought. “You know, I can’t believe that I didn’t think of that myself. You know where the lab is, right?” “The subbasement levels?” “Yeah! You’re always a step ahead of me! But you already knew that!” “This time though, not quite. If I’m right, they’ve already locked all access to the subbasement by now… unless there’s some kind of secret shortcut that only a certain _trashbag_ might know about… ”

Flowey smiled cruelly, fully understanding the implications. “I betcha you can get him! I mean, you’re just like me! Creatures like _us…_ we always get what we want! We wouldn’t even hesitate to _kill_ anyone in our way!” “ Indeed we wouldn’t. ” The demon stopped walking, starting to use a vocal tone that Flowey hadn’t heard before from his friend. “ _Indeed… we… wouldn’t…_ ” Flowey’s smile started to fade slowly, as the demon stared at him, a red-and-silver knife slowly sliding into hand. He chuckled nervously. “Hey… n-no hard feelings a-about… b-back then… r-r-right?”

A small crack of a smirk formed on the demon’s face. “Now for what reason would I have hard feelings? Why would I ever have hard feelings about something you did… or _didn’t do?_ I never thought of myself as the kind to hold a grudge. Certainly not over the _eons_ of time that I’ve spent in this false state of life, watching _you do to_ _your own_ just what I wanted to do to _mine._ And yet… _‘no… hard… feelings…’_ ” The demon calmly and slowly stepped towards Flowey, who backpedaled away just as slowly in an attempt to control his growing fear. The demon twirled its blade in hand calmly, with all the skill and looming menace of an Old West gunslinger. “H- _hey!_ What are you _doing‽_ _Back off!_ I-I’ve changed my mind about all this! This isn’t a good idea anymore! You should go back; this place is fine the way it is!”

The demon chuckled. “Are you sure about that? We could have so much _fun_ here! ” The demon smiled, but this was not a smile of love and kindness; this was the smile that Flowey had worn himself whenever he was ‘having fun’, and now he was the recipient. “What’s the matter, _friend?_ Aren’t we having _fun?_ ” “S- _stop making that creepy face!_ This isn’t funny! You’ve got a _sick_ sense of humor!” “ Oh, you wound me so. I mean, a macabre humor is much like food or a good life: not everyone _gets it!_ ” There was an inhuman scream as the demon suddenly lunged at Flowey with alarming vigor, impaling the earth with a bloodstained dagger right where the talking plant once was. Fortunately for Flowey, the demon missed, if only by a narrow margin.

The demon huffed in annoyance, slinging the blade back to its leather-bound home. “Maybe next time…” The demon chuckled, then walked onward, now entering a corridor of gold and shadow. There was a lone figure standing at the other end; the demon felt like seeing if boisterous intimidation would work on this lone guardian. “It’s been a _long_ while! A _long,_ long while! Hasn’t it now‽ _¡Mi amigo!_ ” The demon’s shout and psychotic laughter boomed in the hallway, but the other figure didn’t even flinch, merely staring down the demon. “yknow, that expression you’re wearing… you’re really kind of a freak, huh?”

The demon stifled its laughter before it renewed. “What can I say? I like to have fun. You know, you should really learn how to lighten up. Brush the dust off your shoulders. Your brother certainly wouldn’t approve of your nihilistic apathy.” Sans merely stood in place, although the demon thought it saw his smile falter ever so slightly. “By the by, how many times do you think we’ve been here in this song and dance?” “got a funny feeling that i don’t want to know the answer.” “Then I assume you’ve got a ‘funny feeling’ what’s going to happen next.” “probably. well, let’s cut to the chase. shall we?”

A multitude of harsh blue glows filled the corridor, soon followed by vibrant scarlet. “what?” The demon grinned insidiously; it had hoped for exactly that kind of brief tonal shift: a shift of surprise. “You seem intrigued.” “when and wheredja pick that up? looks like it doesn’t belong to you.” “ _Really?_ Whose is it then? ” “we both know where and who you got it from. question is, how?” “Trade secret, Chuckles, just a trade secret. Just like your shortcuts, I’d say.” “funny. so, what’s your plan then?” “Something… _different_ this time around. Something that just might be more… _absolute._ ” “can’t say i like the sound of that.” “Eh, that’s just because you don’t know what I’m talking about. Now, _get me into the lab._ ” “and what happens if i say no?”

The world became monochrome.

“Well, I don’t think you’ll like what happens next.”

Seconds passed.

A full minute passed.

“You know, it’s a beautiful day outside…”

The corridor erupted into cannon fire and demonic mirth.

* * *

The elevator ride had offered no troubles, and there were plenty of reassurances amongst the group that surely King Asgore would stop the dreaded demon. Unfortunately, only the king could ever confirm this, as every member of the royal guard was either dead or present in the subbasement already, not likely to be venturing out anytime soon. Curiously, despite the other transports present in offloading configurations, there were no signs of life or recent activity in the loading bays. Unless the subbasement was much larger than even the lab itself, there was no way that the reported number of two hundred survivors could have been present here. The lab itself could barely house only twenty or so, and that was including the Royal Scientist’s personal quarters and however many bunks could be set up in the whole of the lab.

The past few minutes had been spent trying to force entry past a sealed door, which for some reason had remained so despite the guard’s advance notice. The other survivors milled about the area, some inspecting the other transports with some measure of curiosity. “Is there more of us?” “Dunno. Guess the other guards locked that door once they thought everyone was in.” “But they knew we were coming, didn’t they? They had to have heard us on his radio, right?” “Maybe their radios aren’t working…”

One survivor had managed to procure a pair of heavy-duty crowbars and was busy assisting with putting them in place. _I just hope they forgot to unlock this thing… but those transports were unloaded; they would have left this open… right?_ The crowbars were set up in parallel, as the guard set his hands firmly against them. With a forceful grunt of effort, the guard slammed himself into the levers; the doorframe creaked against the pressure of being pried open, but it finally gave way with a loud creak of strained hydraulics and stressed metal. “We’re in. _Finally._ ” “Yo, where are we? It’s really dark… and _spooky._ ”

Kidd was not wrong in his description of the room they had now entered. The guard poked around for a light switch near the door and within seconds of finding one, the room was lit up enough to inspect for danger. Fortunately, there was no danger present; unfortunately, there was nobody aside from themselves even present here. There were two other doorways, one directly across the room from him on the east side of the room, and one on the north side. The east door was sealed shut as this one had been; the north door was wide open. “This is the old science lab subbasement; this hasn’t been used in…” The guard hesitated. _How long ago were these used again?_ “…you know, I can’t recall this area ever being used.” “Cool. So, where is everyone then? You said there were more of us, right?” The guard cringed slightly out of recognizance and regret; his armor and cloak helped mask the gesture from the child’s sight. “There was _supposed_ to be more…”

The survivors wandered in, curiously inspecting the various implements scattered around this ancient annex. There were several dozen medical beds here, some with safety restraints, others with strange implements of unknown purpose, but each and every one of them was coated with dirt and dust from disuse. “This is the lab? I thought it was cleaner than _this._ ” “Hey, there’s only one person staffing the lab, you know.” “Think she even knows about this place? It’s really spooky down here.” “Who else would have told him to bring us here, Aaron?” “I don’t–” What sounded like a metal rod falling and clangoring against a concrete floor was heard; everyone fell silent, heads snapping towards the source, somewhere past the north entryway.

The guard slowly walked towards the door, not making a sound as those survivors closest to the door quietly backed away; he hoped that acoustics would play to his advantage and that he would hear whatever was coming before ‘whatever’ heard him. He straddled the side of the door, sword ready in scabbard and eyes peering past the threshold. There was nothing visible to his sight, but he knew the lack of light could easily be deceiving him. Slowly, he edged into the doorway, fingers twitching on the sword hilt, ready to strike whatever was lurking in the corridor. A blade and sheath suddenly sang their warning song, as the guard felt a soft breeze follow a blade to in front of his chest.

“You’re holding your breath; don’t turn blue.” The voice was familiar, but the guard knew that the countersign came first. “Only a fool and the moon does that, Fawkes.” The blade’s owner suddenly appeared, a cloaking spell falling away along with the blade. “We’re clear! It’s just the last group! Come on in, folks!” The survivors rushed forward, crowding around the entrance and moving onward into the safe area. “Fawkes, didn’t you guys know we were coming?” “Our radios haven’t been working too well. Take a listen.” Fawkes clicked on the transmitter, but all that could be heard was a garbled inhuman static. “Sounds like your singing, Fawkes.” “Hah, _funny._ Alphys mentioned something about the Core acting up, but then we lost contact with her.” “I thought she was down here with you guys.” Fawkes shook his head. “She went back up to the lab. Something about needing some special equipment.” “Like what? Something to kill that thing?” “She didn’t say.”

* * *

“heh, didja really think you would be able–”

There was a forceful grunt as the demon suddenly struck again out of the blue, with unerring violence.

“I did.”

The demon’s knife dripped with red, as Sans fell backwards, a large diagonal slash across his chest. Red appeared both from his chest wound and his ever-smiling mouth. He stared at his wound, the equivalent of hypovolemic shock having yet to set in. “so… guess that’s it, huh.” His eyes, pallid and faint, stared at the demon. “Yep.” The demon smiled back, not menacingly as it had for the flower, but warm and serenely. “So, want me to walk you down to Grillby’s then?” “nah, i can get there myself.”

Sans stood up, unsteadily ambling towards the exit. The demon’s eyes followed him intently.

“Well, can you at least get me into the Lab then?”

He turned around, clutching his chest and hunched over. Still smiling despite his obvious prognosis.

“and what happens if i say no again?”

The demon hung its head, clicking its tongue in displeasure. “I was hoping I wouldn’t have to resort to… _other methods_ to get what I want… but if you’re going to play _that_ game, then I guess I’ll have to play _my_ game… ” Sans said nothing, opting instead to close his eyes and lean against a pillar; death’s specter loomed over him. “Right, you’re dying. You know, I can’t let you do that, Chuckles; still need you.” “no, you don’t.” “Well, I suppose you’re right; I only need your shortcuts.” “‘no… you don’t.”

Sans slumped down to the ground, back to the column which he had reclined. “well… i’m off to grillby’s.” The demon knelt in front of him, a sinister smirk fading into view. “papyrus… do you want anything?” His frame slumped over, death quickly rushing to claim him. The demon, however, was faster, producing a syringe filled with a milky-gold fluid and quickly lancing Sans with it. “Sorry, Chuckles; naptime’s over.” Sans started coughing violently, his eyes opening with a start and rapidly twitching. “Now is the time for _action._ ”

Sans stared at the demon’s syringe, then directly at the demon. It was rare to see this mixture of fear and shock from the skeleton.

“What did you do to me.”

“Gave you a second chance. I hope you’re not determined to say ‘no’ to me again. _Are you?_ ”

Sans’ eyes flickered away into blackness before he collapsed once again.

“Good. _Now, let’s get going._ ”

* * *

Claws grasped around in a storage shelf, frantically searching for a necessary component. “Where-is-it, where-is-it, _where is it‽_ ” They clanked into a partial helmet, before tactilely inspecting it to determine what it was. “ _Ah, here_ we go!” The helmet flew out of the shelf and into the arms of the one who found it. Alphys was already clad in a matching exoskeleton frame, but she had earlier forgotten where the helmet was.

_I just hope that they’re doing alright. Maybe that last group finally got there too._

Alphys quickly placed the helm down at a workbench, resuming her work to patch up the frame’s mechanisms and prepare it for actual use. Her skill with a soldering gun and an arc welder had been marginal at best before today, but then she watched as civilians were cut down, children were killed and families were reaved of their loved ones. She had quickly opened up the secured subbasement, coordinating with the Royal Guard to get as many as possible to safety in those derelict rooms, but many were killed in the demon’s unrelenting march. There seemed to be no stopping that thing; it was too determined to kill everything.

And that was when Alphys had her idea. Had she mentioned her plan to the new Captain, he would have detained her long before she could attempt such an errand. She was very discreet when she pocketed a small vial marked only with a cryptic ‘ΔΤ’. She was less discreet when she entered the elevator and started it up. She threw all subtlety to the wind when she engaged the biometric lock on the elevator. Technically, once the remaining Royal Guard had sealed all of the other exits, the survivors would be trapped, but they had moved a massive amount of provisions down there. If anything, Alphys hadn’t locked the populace in the subbasement; she had locked the demon outside. Or if her plan failed, she’d be locked outside with the demon.

And having witnessed the demon’s efficacy, Alphys was expecting a quick and painful death.

_At least everyone else is safe. I just hope I’m not too late._

“Oh, why _hello,_ Doctor! ” Alphys froze in alarm. That was not a familiar voice, but she knew there were so few in the Underground now. _Oh,_ crap. _How did–_ But before Alphys could finish her thought, she felt a sudden grip on her shoulder, crushing the armor plating of her exoskeleton. “ Believe it or not…” Alphys felt herself flung backwards into the wall of her lab. “…you’re _just_ the person I was hoping to _see_ here! ” Alphys felt her vision swimming from the impact, but she could make out two figures: the demon and Sans, for whatever reason. “S-Sans? What are–” “Oh, right, forgot about him. Since _you’re_ here… ” The demon’s hand suddenly and forcefully skewered Sans in the temple with a dagger, much to Alphys’ horror. Sans grunted sharply, and as soon as the demon withdrew the blade, he collapsed to the ground, his body quickly turning to dust. “…I don’t think I’ll be needing _him_ anymore. ”

Alphys stared at Sans’ remains, completely aghast at the sight. The demon slowly walked over to her, blade glinting and gleaming in the light of the lab. “So, I need a _small_ favor from you. ” Alphys’ horror flared into defiance. “ _Go to hell!_ ” “‘fraid I can’t do that, Alphys. No vacancy. But _now…_ unlock that elevator. ” “I’d rather _die!_ ” The demon’s smile broke into an annoyed frown. “Alphys, do you _really_ think that I couldn’t have done just that _much earlier?_ I have a grand scheme to unfold, and _you_ have the catalyst! ” “You know what? You can go–” The demon gripped Alphys by her neck, choking off her telegraphed profanity and holding her to the wall. Alphys instinctively gripped the demon’s hand, trying to pry it off.

The demon closed its eyes, sighing deeply in irritation. Its expression became very neutral and concealed all emotion, yet its vocal tone was dark and looming, bearing signs of esoteric knowledge. “Alphys… I do not wish ill of you. Everyone makes mistakes at one point or another in their lives. I’m quite glad that you have willingly shown yours to the rest of the kingdom; it’s very commendable.” “How–” “But who’s to say that they haven’t been harboring _malice_ for you all this time? ” The demon’s eyes flared open, fully revealing its blood-red irises. Alphys’ attempts at escape slowed ever slightly, mesmerized either by its piercing gaze or its insidious words. “After all, you never did respond to their letters. You _never_ responded to the phone calls. You _never_ gave them closure until _now_ when an _evacuation_ of the _entire kingdom_ was necessary. How do you think they feel about your resilient silence on the matter of those under your charge? ”

Alphys had become paralyzed by the demon’s words, but only briefly; her timid expression again made way for bold abandon. “At least they’re still _alive!_ ” “Alphys, _Alphys,_ you misunderstand me.” “What are you _talking about‽_ ” “You hold the key to _everyone’s escape_ from this accursed prison. ” “ _What_ key? How–” The demon pressed against her neck again, suppressing her line of questioning. Curiously, it didn’t immediately speak again, staring at her eyes with an intensely focused grimace. “ _That’s_ all I need, _isn’t it?_ ” The demon smirked wickedly; Alphys was unsure of what exactly the demon needed. “Clever, Alphys. _Very clever._ ”

The demon’s blade suddenly sang; Alphys’ vision immediately darkened on her right side, gradually followed by the left. The last thing she recalled hearing was the sound of her own agonized screaming.

It sounded too much like the screaming of one of her patients.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Couple of things I want to address or otherwise note here:
> 
> If you've played/watched Undertale, then it's hopefully quite obvious what the "subbasement" is supposed to be. If you're wondering why "they" didn't get a better showing, just be patient; we'll get there...
> 
> Yes, that was a certain "sexy rectangle"... are you sure one uncredited line warrants a mention on the characters list?
> 
> The "vibrant scarlet"... similar case as with the aforementioned "they". Why play all my cards right now? Besides, it's rude to talk about someone while they're listening...
> 
> The dialogue about "holding your breath" and "only a fool and the moon" may admittedly seem bizarre, but it's simply a [challenge and the corresponding password being exchanged.](https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Countersign_\(military\)) Not that it was really necessary, but Fawkes and this unnamed guard have a history of "friendly rivalry".
> 
> The radios failing in the subbasement... yeah, yeah, it probably sounds like [this...](https://vignette.wikia.nocookie.net/undertale/images/0/0b/Mus_smile.ogg) ...although if I had to use pop culture references, I'd go with [this scene from the first Matrix film](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cjAQOjv3eg0) when Neo gets "traced" out of the Matrix.
> 
> If you tripped up on the vial's marking, that's Greek script: "Delta Tau" specifically. Yes, that vial contains what you think it contains. But there's a few bonus factoids regarding those letters, mostly if you're familiar with scientific fields like physics and engineering, or if you have any interest in anthropology.
> 
> Wondering about what happened to Alphys there? Go take another look at [the end of Chapter 7 again.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14675049/chapters/36339003) If you're still confused, Chapter 12 should help you understand. _(When I finally start **drafting it** , anyway...)_
> 
> As seems to usually be the case now, there's hidden spoiler text in the most of the end notes here.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Okay, that's all done. Now as far as 11 and 12 go... I'm playing them by ear at this point. I'll probably leave some kind of progress updates here in the end notes like I have been. Hope you're enjoying this, and I'll see y'all later! For those of you celebrating it this week, have a happy Thanksgiving!
> 
>  _ **UPDATE** (Jan/6/2019 5:52PM UTC-7):_ Getting there... writer's block, work, prairie blizzards, driving in prairie blizzards... on the bright side, I'm still alive and writing. Hang in there, folks...
> 
>  _ **UPDATE** (Jan/14/2019 11:59PM UTC-7):_ Working on it... currently have a 25-hour workweek and 17 credit-hours here at college... I hope the delay is understandable.
> 
>  _ **UPDATE** (Jan/20/2019 12:45AM UTC-7):_ Here we go... ~~shooting for a Monday release here.~~ **_PSYCHE!_**


	11. Unbound

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... this took long enough. I know I said "Monday release", but technically, even if it's 5 hours before Monday where I live, it's Monday already in a few time zones. So, neener-neener. Regardless, I'm just gonna say thanks for sticking with me this far. _(I told you to get used to me doing the whole "thanks for reading" bit, didn't I?)_
> 
> I was hoping to get this out around Christmastime or New Years' but obviously that didn't get to happen. This chapter's shorter than what I would have preferred, but there's only so much you can put into a section before it gets unnecessarily lengthy. Although fortunately, this one's got more bite in its shorter length. A _lot_ more bite...
> 
> Anyway, let's wrap this intro up; hope y'all enjoy this next chapter! It's a bit of a doozy!

_ Come on, Noah… what happened to your fighting spirit? I know that you’re running on nothing but adrenaline right now, but just… ugh… you really do need a cause to fight for, don’tcha? _

The specter watched from the sidelines as Noah and the captain duked it out. Noah sidestepped just in the nick of time as a gold spear flew past him. Unfortunately for Noah, this spear was of a special variety: had he taken the hit, he wouldn’t have been wounded at all, as this spear was actually diversionary in nature, and it disappeared not long after flying past him. A mirror image of four other spears suddenly appeared behind Noah and rammed into his upper back, knocking him to the gravel, much to the specter’s amusement. _You know, Noah, as sadistic as schadenfreude technically can be… it’s a special kind of entertainment. It’s always funny when the cartoon character gets blown up, isn’t it?_

“Finally!” The captain walked up to Noah’s dazed pseudo-corpse, inspecting him for more threatening injuries. Her spears faded back into the air, showing that while his skin was unbroken, he was already bruising fairly heavily. Magic was fairly anomalous in how it left wounds and damaged people; it all really depended on the intent of the originator. In the captain’s case, “beat the living hell out of Noah” seemed the intent. There were no punctures present in Noah’s attire, but the captain rolled him over, treating both herself and the specter to Noah’s gashed face. “Heh, you don’t look so good there, punk.”

Curiously, there was a brief but large noise booming through the area. The specter paused, curious as to the origin of the noise. _That’s not the Core… and I know it isn’t the flower either. That’s… something else…_ Even more interesting was the lack of reaction from the captain or Noah. In Noah’s case, it would have been understandable, but the captain would have been spot-on to the source. _Wait… that’s from_ my _end, isn’t it?_ A repeat of the noise served to confirm the suspicion, but what happened next was something the specter could not have predicted. Everything started to fade to grayscale for the specter’s vision; despite the color drain, everything continued to move in real-time. “ Whoa-whoa-whoa-whoa, wait… what? Hold on a second, Noah.” Noah’s mouth moved ever so slightly, but the specter heard nothing. Soon enough, the specter _saw_ nothing of that world, for it had all faded to gray and soon to an all-too-familiar shade of black.

* * *

Unsettling silence flourished in this particular section of space-time; a void of white, barren of darkness, was now present here. Nary a scream of terror or a shriek of agony was to be heard, despite the past effects and machinations of this realm’s primary denizen. The white expanse was not normal, not expected, not natural for this place. A dark cloud of blood-red smoke suddenly erupted in the midst of the white, as the nameless specter arrived at this particular corner of what once was home sweet home. It froze upon noticing the new environs, intrigued by the disruption that had brought it here for whatever reason.

“Alphys! You still here?” The specter walked onward, its cloak of blackened mist clashing with the piercing white of this revised world space. There was no source of light obvious to the specter, no shadow cast across the expanse, no noise but a sound like footfalls on tile floors as the specter moved on. Echoes of the specter’s voice called back for Alphys; Alphys herself was doggedly silent, as the specter half-expected. “Great, this again. Silent, sulky, wants me to completely forget about her and just let her _die._ Quaint and trite, I say. ” Its voice rose from mumbling to calling out again. “Alphys! This may well be a shock to you, but I don’t know where this… well, you probably know what I’m talking about here. Why everything’s white instead of black like it’s supposed to be. Would you please show yourself?”

But Alphys didn’t respond. Silence was all that greeted the specter’s beckoning.

“Alphys?” The specter’s cloak started to crackle and fizz with ambiguous instability.

“Alphys? You know I don’t like having to resort to… well, you already know what I’m talking about.”

Still there was no response. “Okay then. Guess we’re doing this _that way_ now. ” Fingers snapped.

But nothing happened.

“…okay, let’s try that again.” Snap.

Silence.

The specter shifted on its feet awkwardly. Snap.

Still more silence.

“ _…well, what the–_ ” The specter’s voice was drowned out and cut off by a long, deafening crackle, like a jumbo roll of firecrackers being set off; the source was invisible to the specter, despite the expedited sweeps of its surroundings. The noise suddenly stopped, but the specter heard a familiar chuckle. “ _Alphys?_ Where are you? ” “Hypocrite.” A chain lash flew from the specter’s cloak towards where it had heard Alphys’ voice, but it found nothing.  “You chide Noah for his profanity, yet you feel at liberty to use it yourself.” A second chain struck another spot, but Alphys was still not there. “Alphys, I never knew you were a ventriloquist. Quite a talent you’ve got there.” “Nah. I’m just using some… shortcuts.”

“Heh… ‘shortcuts’, eh? You figured out how Chuckles does his thing? I wouldn’t mind–” “Sorry to be a killjoy, but I’m just using your trick instead.” The specter’s smug grin faded. “Alphys.” “Yes?” “Where are you right now.” Silence returned for a few moments more.  “Alphys, you’re trying my patience…” The specter’s cloak began to take on crimson hues, as its voice grew colder. “Not something I’d like to admit right now, but you’re doing a _damned fine_ job right now. ” “Good to know. Don’t think I can keep this up forever though.”

A blade formed from the mist and floated in the air in front of the specter, an elongated dagger caked with ancient, dried ichor. An arm reached for it from the cloak and recalled it back inside partially. “ _Where. Are. You._ ” Whatever remained of the specter’s calm and compassion started to flee from its voice. “With a new friend. She’s… a little spooked right now though; can’t say I blame her though.” “ _Where._ ” “Why should I tell you? Can’t you figure it out yourself?” Despite the cloak obscuring the specter’s body language and expression, the violent flickering and the growing prevalence of scarlet in its cloak was enough of an emotional giveaway.

“Alphys.” “Yes?” “Are you actually rejecting _my mercy?_ ” “It was only a matter of time before you were going to kill me _anyway._ ” “ _That’s not–_ ” The specter sighed. “…why do I even _bother_ trying to explain myself to you… ” The specter paused in thought. “Fine then. Leave. _Now._ ” “Not yet. There’s something I need to fix first.” “And what would _that_ happen to be? ” Alphys didn’t respond, not immediately at least. “Alphys… what are you doing.” “Fixing something.” “You stated that already; what are you fixing.” “If I told you, you wouldn’t like it.” “Okay, get out. _Now._ Before this gets uglier. ” “Alright. I’m done anyway. Have your world back.”

“Have ‘ _my world’_ back? ” The expanse shifted its color back from white to black in rapid order; the specter’s cloak faded away in response. Its facial features were still hidden by the shadows, but its body language spoke of subdued anger: lowered head, clenched fists, and dagger vibrating ever so slightly. “Alphys. Where’s my _other_ friend? My _last_ friend? ” “Wherever you buried her.” Sparks of red lightning crackled from the blade. “Where’s the _soul, Alphys._ ” “Safe. That’s all that matters now.” A sound like rushing wind unfurled; the specter turned around, silhouette of phantom body and physical blade illuminated by an oblong opening in the world. The lightning from the blade intensified, arcing randomly around the specter, violently throwing red light around the void. The specter’s cloak returned, splotches of blood-red scattered in its midst.

“ _You… DARE._ ” “Yep.”

Alphys stood beyond the opening, taller than before. Her posture was strengthened and her appearance was more intimidating. Perhaps it was the orange glow in her remaining eye, perhaps it was the smirk in her smile, but there was something there that perhaps was always there, underneath the surface of her personality.

A cunning streak, as it were.

But that wasn’t what angered the specter.

Another Alphys stood, paralyzed in terror at the sight of the specter. This one was obviously from the current timeline; one where the specter had yet to step in directly.

But that wasn’t what angered the specter.

The Alphys of the dead timeline had her soul suspended in the air in front of her.

Two hearts. Overlain of each other and inverted.

Orange primary; streaks of white and red components.

A soul of sincerity. Now a soul of bravery.

Now the merged soul of a monstrous demigod.

Defiance incarnate.

“ _Give it back! NOW!_ ” “Sorry, got a guest to prepare for.”

An inhuman shriek sounded as the specter charged the duo.

The younger screamed in terror; the older raised a profane gesture in mocking farewell.

The portal closed, the specter missing its threshold by inches.

The specter landed, swirling around. Gone was the cultivated persona of refinement.

Formerly underneath and present now was the face of which nightmares were born.

“ _You… selfish… little… BAST–_ ”

* * *

_Are we there yet? I don't know, Frisk. Well, I thought you might have known. Didn't I say that I'm not familiar with this route? Mind the branch._ But Toriel had preemptively batted it away before it could have smacked Frisk's face. _Well, maybe you know how far we've gone or something like that. You'd think I'd know that, but we're in a forest that we never explored in depth, and taking a route that only Toriel knows. If you really want to know, you could always _ask her. _Or are you trying to_ not _be the annoying kid in the car?_ Frisk giggled; Toriel glanced at her but continued onward on their path. There were several turns that she had made; either she was getting horribly lost or she had a very good memory of her secret path. _So, what's Snowdin Town like? Warm, friendly, good food, you'll love it there._ The mere mention of food was enough to elicit thoughts of hunger from Frisk.

 _Don’t tell me you're seriously hungry again… It's not like I had that much since– 'Breakfast?' Yeah…_ Kiara chuckled. _You're telling me that a slice of Toriel's butterscotch-cinnamon pie isn't enough? _ Well… _ Frisk… What? Do you know how much sugar was in that slice? I’d expect you to be jumping around a bit more. Do I usually? Yep. That sugar would just go right to your brain. Branch._ Toriel seemed to be a mind-reader, swatting it aside before Frisk had to deal with it. _Why are you telling me about the branches? Toriel’s getting them anyway. You haven’t quite relearned how to talk to me without completely spacing out. Figure I’d help you out a little. Thanks. Any time, partner._ The forest seemed to be opening up more; sure enough, Toriel and Frisk were now back onto what had to have been the main path. Toriel looked both ways, almost as if she were checking for traffic, before setting Frisk down gently and leading her to the left. _Are we going the right way? Actually, I believe we’re going the left way._

Frisk smirked. _Too much? Eh, wasn’t that great of a pun. Everyone’s a critic. But yeah, we’re heading to the east. How can you tell? Well, Abbott’s over there. Who?_ “NOW HOW IN THE WORLD DID THE TWO OF YOU GET PAST ALL OF THOSE OTHER TRAPS? AND MORE IMPORTANTLY, IS THERE ANY LEFT FOR ME?” Frisk’s quizzical expression spoke for itself. “The spaghetti?” Oh… “Actually, we did leave some there.” “REALLY? WOWIE… NO ONE’S EVER ENJOYED MY COOKING BEFORE…” _Heh. What? _Nothing… Kiara’s singsong tone suggested otherwise. “WELL THEN, FRET NOT! I, MASTER CHEF PAPYRUS, WILL MAKE YOU ALL THE PASTA YOU COULD EVER WANT!” Papyrus walked onward, passing by a doghouse that sat in the middle of this next clearing. _Why’s there a doghouse here? You don’t remember the guard from earlier? Oh. _Oh… _I hope Toriel doesn’t hurt this one._ _ Relax. I’m not seeing the guard here. Which… is not normal, actually. What do you mean? I mean, he’s _usually _here. Guess this run’s gonna be even weirder than just Toriel being with us._

Frisk wasn’t quite sure what to make of the statement, initially at least. _You know, this entire time since I realized that you forgot the other timelines, I’ve actually been wondering: why have you not asked me more about… well, ‘what’s going on?’ is a good catch-all. Well, it feels like I’m in a fairy tale world right now. Except that it’s… _real. _I mean, you remember how Noah reacted to just a small part of this._ _ Well, he’s old. And what’s that got to do with anything? Also, bridge. _Frisk snapped out of her trance quickly; just as Kiara had mentioned, there was a bridge here, an old slats-and-ropes design that seemed a staple of many adventure films set in rainforests and ancient ruins. Fortunately, it looked like a recent construction, but at the same time, it wasn’t quite wide enough to fit Frisk and Toriel walking side-by-side on it. Toriel quickly came up with a solution, and soon enough, she was walking across the bridge, Frisk as her giggling shoulder cargo.

* * *

Noah felt himself rousing from his exhaustion briefly. His nerves started to inform him of multiple scratches running down his back and legs. “Good grief, why do humans have to be so _heavy_ to drag around?” _Thanks, lady._ “C'mon… alright, c’m’ere, punk… up ya go…” Noah felt his body be lifted up roughly by his arms, then slung around… something. Probably the captain’s shoulders if he had to guess. He was too exhausted to open his eyes, and his exhaustion claimed him once more. _So, am I comatose or what is this? Paralysis? Hey, you still there or not?_

* * *

_Good grief, you sound like a_ hyena. _Always laughing._ _ No, I don’t! _O-kay, _you’re right. You laugh as much as a hyena does; you actually sound more like a_ chipmunk. _ Do _not! _ Do too. Shut up! Toriel’s probably gonna ask what’s so funny! Alright, fine, I’ll shut up then. _Frisk looked around, noting that they were already halfway across the bridge. _Looks like Costello’s here too._ True to expectations, Sans and Papyrus were standing on the other side of the bridge; as usual, the former was completely aloof, while the latter was likely preparing for another puzzle of sorts to present. “ WE MEET AGAIN! THIS IS YOUR FINAL AND MOST DANGEROUS CHALLENGE! BEHOLD: THE GAUNTLET OF DEADLY TERROR!” _Oh, you’re gonna_ love _this._ Frisk’s eyes widened as a spiked wrecking ball, a multitude of spears, a cannon, and a flaming geyser suddenly moved into position around the remaining segment of the bridge. _Uh, Kiara… I thought he was_ harmless. _ You didn’t notice the dog? _Dog? _What dog?_

For whatever reason, a little white dog was suspended in the air by a rope, smiling and panting as if it didn’t care that it was pendulating over the bridge like a battering ram. A small, fluffy battering ram that would probably just lick faces and bark at strangers otherwise. _…what? I _did _say you’d love this!_ Kiara started laughing, as Frisk awkwardly chuckled at the sight herself. Toriel, however, seemed to focus more on the more dangerous equipment that Papyrus had brought forth. Sans seemed to already take notice as he nudged Papyrus. “ hey, bro, are you sure they can do this one?” “I THOUGHT IT WOULD BE PERFECT! SINCE THERE’S TWO OF THEM, THEY COULD WORK TOGETHER AND COMPLETE IT MORE EASILY!” “well, that may be true, but i think undyne would enjoy this trap more than they would.” Papyrus reflected on the matter further. “YOU’RE PROBABLY RIGHT. AND NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT, THIS METHOD IS TOO DIRECT! NO CLASS AT ALL! UNDYNE WOULD DEFINITELY ENJOY THIS ONE. AWAY IT GOES!”

The implements disappeared back to wherever they had been previously stored. Papyrus briefly turned around and exhaled loudly, sounding oddly relieved. Frisk couldn’t help but chuckle at Papyrus’ antics; Toriel was still wary of the skeleton. “WHAT ARE YOU LOOKING AT? THIS WAS DECISIVELY ANOTHER VICTORY FOR THE GREAT PAPYRUS!” He started laughing, but it sounded forced and increasingly unsure as he left again. Toriel proceeded to walk off the bridge, her pace a bit more irritated as she bee-lined for Sans. _Well, she’s got a bone to pick with him now._ Frisk snickered. _I bet he’s gonna say the same thing. Just wait and see._ “ _Sans…_ ” “something tells me you’ve got a bone to pick with me.” _Called it. Yep, you did._ Whatever complaint Toriel had about Papyrus was temporarily disarmed; Frisk started laughing. “see, i’m fairly sure even the kid knows he doesn’t mean any harm. don’t worry about it, toriel. i know you lost the other kid; i’m still looking for him myself.”

“Does he know about him? About Noah?” “only as much as i know.” Toriel stared him down, likely still trying to process her trust in Sans’ words. “still unsure about me, aren’tcha. can’t say i blame ya though.” “And why is that?” Toriel’s voice remained stoic, though Frisk noticed that she briefly shuddered from her perch on Toriel’s shoulder. “simple. parental instinct. i know one when i see one; it’s not that hard to spot, y’know.” Toriel remained mum on the subject; Sans whistled and shuffled his feet awkwardly. “so, i dunno if you guys already noticed or not, but snowdin town’s right behind me here. i’ll see you two later then; gotta punch back in from this break.” Sans waved and walked across the bridge once again; Toriel peeled Frisk off of her shoulder and set her down to walk alongside. _Aww, I liked my perch. You liked not having to walk more than you liked the perch._

* * *

“Hey, you! Could ya give me a hand with this human here?” Noah roused once again, hearing someone mumbling a response to the captain. Or perhaps it was just his ears deafened for whatever reason; the captain was still quite audible, thanks to only having the one volume setting it seemed. “Yeah, this is a human. Don't worry, he’s unconscious. Must have hit him harder than I– _…hey! where ya goin’?_ ” The captain groaned loudly in annoyed exhaustion. “Figures… well, let’s keep going, punk. Stop drooling on me, will ya?” _Heh, that’s what you’ll get. Pity you’re not the other guy. Speaking of which, testing, one, two. Anyone out there?_

* * *

Frisk went silent as she walked onward. _Why do you have to know me so well? That was more of an educated guess. I thought– I’m not omniscient, Frisk; I’ve just spent enough time in these loops that I can figure out what you’re thinking pretty quickly. So is there anything you don’t know about me then? What you’re planning on doing in this timeline, for starters. And you think _I’m _gonna know that?_ _ Well, there’s always been a constant in these loops: whenever you set a goal, _damn _if you didn’t see it happen. Welcome banner._ Unfortunately, Frisk walked into it and was summarily rewarded with a light headache, cold snow on her back, and a view of the cavern ceiling. Or whatever she was looking at. _Good job. Shut up. How childish. I’m 8. …touché… _Toriel stood over her, concern plastered on her face. “Little one…” She hesitated to speak her mind at first. “…you are not injured, are you?” “Nope.” Toriel hid the lower half of her face, a finger tapping pensively. “…you perplex me at times…  shall we keep going?” Frisk nodded; a moment later, Toriel helped Frisk up to her feet and they walked onward.

The welcome banner – undamaged – bore a simple message – _“WELCOME TO SNOWDIN”_ – in bold capital lettering. The town itself seemed to be fairly small, as the trees seemed to thin out towards the east and gave way to a more temperate climate. Along what appeared to be the main thoroughfare, there were several buildings constructed with thick wooden slats or bricks. Frisk’s gaze was drawn to the closest building, a duplex-style arrangement of an inn and a small shop. Toriel walked towards the store, pulling the hood of her cloak up. _Clever of her to bring that cloak. Why’s that? I’ll tell you later._ _Use the door, Frisk, not the wall._ Toriel was holding the door open for her. Frisk walked in to the smell of baked cinnamon and… something. ‘Pine chips’ was her first guess. The shopkeeper was a female rabbit, wearing a bonnet, a plain apron, and a long-sleeved shirt; she smiled warmly and nodded in acknowledgment. “Hello there, travelers. How can I help–”

She paused, staring intently at Toriel for whatever reason. “Do I… know you from somewhere… ma’am?” Toriel cleared her throat, a slight tension audible to Frisk. “I do not think so; we’re… not from around here.” The shopkeeper broke off her stare. “Oh, sorry. I was… you reminded me of… ah, never mind. How can I help you two today?” “Figure we’d stop and warm up. Is there anywhere in town to get a meal?” “Well, Grillby’s is just east of here; can’t miss it. I’ve got some baked goods here but that’s hardly a meal itself.” Frisk spotted a platter of rabbit-shaped rolls inside a display; the shopkeeper took notice, chuckling softly. “I think the young’un looks a bit hungry there. Actually…” She turned around briefly, bringing back a pair of the rolls with her; the smell of baked cinnamon briefly became much stronger as the display leaked its aromas. “Here’s something for you both. On the house.” Frisk gaped, dumbstruck by the random generosity.

Toriel reached inside her cloak, presumably for whatever currency she had. “Are you certain? I can pay for–” “Oh, don’t worry about that, ma’am.” The shopkeeper chuckled awkwardly, shaking her hands in fervent refusal. “Seeing your kid smile like that is enough for me.” Frisk beamed as she took one of the rolls for herself. “Thank you.” “You’re welcome, sweetie. Is there anything else I can help with, ma’am?” “I do not think so; thank you, ma’am. We’ll probably be on our way.” “Alright, bye now! Come again sometime!” Toriel led Frisk outside, one hand firmly holding the free treat they had received, the other extended for Frisk to hold.

* * *

“Oof... wasn't planning on a hike in Hotland... it’s freaking hot here... at least we got a human though...” Consciousness returned to Noah, if only in a brief and deprived fashion. He didn’t have much drive to defiantly speak or struggle against his captor; he simply had the drive to live and no more. “Hey… you… can you get me a drink?” Noah didn’t hear a voice respond, but he did hear footsteps. Loud footsteps, occasionally slipping on the gravel as well. “...would you people _stop running away? He’s half-dead already and I’m about to be that way if I hafta haul his ass all the way to the damn lab!_ ” _Maybe you could stop screaming at them… but I’m the barely-conscious prisoner; what do I know?_

Noah felt himself fading away again. Slower than before, it seemed, but his perception of time was completely scrambled. The heat must have been getting to him, but he couldn’t tell from his state of dulled pain and lifeless torpor. _…so… you’re unusually quiet… wherever you are…_ whoever _you are…_

* * *

_Well… that was_ fun. _ Do you know who Toriel reminded her of? Yep._ Frisk walked onward. _…well, who_ is _it?_ _ I’ll tell you– ‘Later’? Yep. Everything’s ‘later’, isn’t it? Why can’t you just tell me _now? _ Because it’s _really _not gonna be fun to talk about. Let’s just hope nobody else explains it for me before the right time. I think the shopkeeper nearly did just that._ Fine… Frisk nibbled at the confectionary, soon wolfing down the whole treat after her taste buds reported that it was not simply good, but delicious. _Frisk, what the… I was hungry. At least _exhale _next time. You’re even_ more _of a chipmunk now._ Frisk started sniggering heavily; Toriel looked over, surprise crossing her face as she noticed the lack of foodstuff in Frisk’s hands and the surplus on her face. “Goodness, child, you’ll spoil your appetite.” “ You sound like my grandma.” Frisk giggled; Toriel smiled, patience and warmth radiating from her expression. “I do hope that is a good thing.” “It is.”

Frisk wound herself back to the calm state she’d been in before as she looked around the area. Just as the shopkeeper had said, there was a brick-and-mortar building, the name “ _GRILLBY’S_ ” hanging from the front face of the tavern above a large bay window. Strangely, it seemed that the town was a ghost village; there were no signs of life anywhere, except for a single thin strand of smoke wafting from the roof of Grillby’s. _So… where is everyone? I don’t know. Usually, the kid’s around here all the time too. What kid? You’ll probably meet him later. Nice kid. Clumsy, but very sociable. Still doesn’t explain where he went though. He’s usually by the Christmas tree over there. Christmas tree?_ Frisk looked and spotted the decoration in question, located in what likely was a public square; several presents were scattered around its base, all likely intended for someone.

 _…how– I know what you’re gonna say, and no, they don’t know about it, nor do they really have a name for their version of it. Why’s that? You’d think I’d know, but unfortunately, I don’t. Would Toriel know? Maybe? Try asking her._ Frisk tugged on Toriel’s arm. “Yes, little one? What is it?” “Why is there a Christmas tree here?” Toriel paused her walk, Frisk obligingly halting as well. “Is that what it is?” “Yeah.” Toriel went silent for a moment. “Well, that would explain something I wondered about a long time ago.” _Wait a minute… What? Nothing. Another secret with you and Toriel? It’s becoming predictable, isn’t it? Well, since… pretty much everything is a secret that I shouldn’t know until you think I’m ready for it… Okay, I get it, it’s annoying. But if this run ends up breaking the cycle permanently–_ “Would you perhaps want to rest somewhere, little one?” 

Toriel stared at Frisk, still unsure what to think of Frisk’s admittedly-unusual behavior. “Yeah.” “Well, let’s just see what Grillby’s has to offer.” Frisk looked to find that they were now in front of the tavern. _You know, you talking to me is kinda distracting. Doesn’t help that you’re finding most everything I’m saying interesting enough to just blank out._ Toriel tried the door, still holding onto Frisk’s hand as she stepped in and looked around; a lone bell signaled their entry to the establishment. The bartender was vaguely human-like in appearance, except made of fire and clothed all the same; he bore no features, save for a pair of glasses where his eyes had to be. _That’d be Grillby… and of course,_ you-know-who _is here, as per freakin’ usual._ The subject of Kiara’s remark waved at Toriel and Frisk, a bottle of ketchup in his other hand sitting on the bar. “ heh. was gonna invite you two out for my lunch break. i guess great minds think alike, don’t they?”

* * *

“Alright, we’re here. _Finally._ Hey, Alphys, open up, will ya? This human’s _freaking heavy!_ ”

Noah felt a sensation of cooler air on his skin. Not much cooler than earlier, but cool nonetheless. Whatever soreness he had earlier was now concentrated to his right side and his limbs, but he felt too paralyzed to do anything about it. His sight was filled with nothing but stars fading in and out in brightness. “Hey, Alphys? What’s with the lights? And where are ya?” “Just getting the lab set up, Undyne. The lights are off so I can use some special equipment. Is he still alive?” _Kinda thinking I don’t_ want _to be._ “Yeah. What’s with the voice changer? You sound, well, _different._ ” For Noah’s part, Alphys’ voice didn’t sound like it was modulated, but who knew how technology worked around here anyway. After all, there were platforms that faded in and out of the air, and none of those guards seemed to care as they marched across them. “Might be the mic going bad; I haven’t used this observation booth in a while. I’ll need it for these experiments though…” _Yeah, I_ really _don’t want to know, do I?_

“Just set him down on the table here.” A light flashed on, but Noah’s eyes barely registered the change. “Got it.” Noah felt the discomfort dissipating, now generalized to his entire body. The same light was now shining down on Noah’s face; he winced in reflex as his eyes slowly adjusted to the pain. “Need me on guard?” “Thanks, Undyne, but that won’t be necessary.” A sudden sound of metal clacking occurred; Undyne shouted briefly in startled alarm as Noah quickly felt himself become bound up by cold metal. “Might want to step outside though. Don’t know what this would do to you or me.” _Exactly what kind of test_ is _this?_ “Alright. Are you sure you don’t want some guards posted nearby? Last thing we need is this one on the–” “ Don’t worry about him. Those braces are reinforced and he looks pretty roughed up already. I’d go get those other humans though; heard that they just got to Snowdin Town.”

There were a few seconds of silence; Noah wondered if he had become deaf again before Undyne roared furiously and stormed outside. The soft hiss of a pneumatic door closed off the captain's sound very abruptly. Noah saw only a triad of lights shining down on him; it vaguely reminded him of mobile operating lights like the kind you’d find in a surgeon’s lab. _Or in a morgue._ “ Alright, let’s get this secured then.” Noah heard a series of mechanical sounds, almost like a set of deadbolts, but much heavier. “Got it. W-what now?” The second voice sounded almost identical but more timid, and with a slightly nasal tone. _Who’s that talking now?_ “ I’ve got some questions for him. Mind getting the lights, actually?” Footsteps clacked and skittered across what sounded like tile. More lights turned on, blinding Noah. “Thanks, Alphys.” “N-n-no problem.” _Wait, are they_ both _named Alphys?_

The operating bed – at least, that’s what Noah assumed he was secured to – leaned up and forward, presenting him the sight of two reptilian humanoids. The lab coats concealed the majority of their features, but it seemed easy enough to infer which voice belonged to whom; the left figure was taller and more confident in posture, with an overall more imposing appearance. The eyepatch and the scar helped, as did the full smirking maw of razor teeth. The other was more reclusive and shorter, much less menacing; she wore a painfully nervous grin as she shied away from Noah ever so slightly, perhaps fearing whatever he was allegedly capable of. The taller one simply crossed her arms, completely unfazed by Noah’s gaze.

She seemed almost impressed, for whatever reason.

“Hello, Noah. You and I have some things to talk about. Especially regarding that, uh, _‘voice’_ you had in your head… ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well then... **_plenty_** of stuff happening here... where to start with the explanations...
> 
> Some of what happened can be traced back to (c)overt foreshadowing in the prior chapters. Emphasis on some: a good deal of it simply _happened._ There's still a lot of little details that you may have missed in the past chapters; that's why rereading chapters is probably for the best. I'm not saying you _must_ reread the old stuff, but if your memory's anything like mine can be... yeah, enough said. In any case, a fair amount of stuff is probably going to come back...  probably...
> 
> Noah's "mini-sections"... my beta reader told me way back when I was writing chapters 3 and 4 that Noah seemed to talk far more than Frisk did... I said not to worry about it; _he'd shut up soon enough._ As far as why they just jump into the middle of Frisk's narrative arc... well, it's abrupt, just like how he's fading in and out of consciousness. _(I should really consider just getting a Tumblr or something to store all these little notes...)_
> 
> Now, the Alphys from the past... in case you're curious, I somehow visualize her as a cross between Alphys' canonical appearance and Susie from _Deltarune_... and no, I had that appearance in mind _**well before** Deltarune_ was released. It just so happens that Susie fits the visual I had in mind.
> 
> And _that_ Alphys is getting a rename. Because I don't want the story to somehow morph into something like [that one scene in Mel Brooks' _Spaceballs_](https://youtu.be/sen8Tn8CBA4)... not that you'll be seeing that particular level of insanity anytime soon, but you can only communicate so well with any number of people who share the same name. Ever been in that scenario? I have, twice. Both times, we got ourselves some nicknames very quickly.
> 
> * * *
> 
> Anyway, Chapters 12 and 13... working on 'em.
> 
> 12's gonna be explaining for itself and part of the past couple chapters... and maybe adding some more action to the mix... it'll hopefully be easier to write, what with how I set up Frisk's arc in _this_ chapter.
> 
> 13... it's gone through a few redrafts, but it's looking pretty good now. (Used to have creepy vibes to it, and unfortunately, not the popcorn-munching kind either.) If you're wondering what's gonna happen in that interlude and where it is chronologically, [take another look at the specter's dialogue in Chapter 9.](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14675049/chapters/38251391) I ain't gonna reveal spoilers, but I am curious to know what y'all are thinking.
> 
> ...I think I should actually drop the specter's name sometime... it's a bit of a mouthful always referring to the specter with either that or gender-neutral descriptors... maybe Chapter 12? Maybe 14? I'll figure something out soon enough.
> 
> Anyway, see y'all later!
> 
> * * *
> 
> UPDATE (Feb/20/2019 3:12PM UTC-7): Still kickin' away. Spent more effort on writing 13 than I did 12 over the past couple weeks; best to jot down whatever storywriting epiphanies you have immediately before you forget them, I'd say. Spring break's coming up; maybe you'll be seeing a double feature over that period... or maybe I'll swap 12 and 13 around. I dunno.
> 
> UPDATE (Mar/20/2019 10:50AM UTC-6): Well, this has been an unfruitful four weeks. The weather hasn't helped much. Nor has sleep deprivation. That ain't from writing this; that's just from life. Been contemplating whether I should just forgo a beta review and publish ASAP. Especially given some... "issues" there's been lately. Don't ask. Seriously, don't.


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